In Pieces
by Quinhwyvar
Summary: The Avengers' nurse barely keeps her superheros in one piece. Add Peter's distressed aunt and Tony's engagement party. What could get worse? She should have never asked that question.
1. In Which Spider-Man Attempts Persuasion

_NOTE: This story had been written to be read as a standalone but is technically a sequel to another work In Stitches. While I suggest you read that one first, it is not required (if I have done my job right). _

**Chapter 1: In Which Spider-Man Attempts Persuasion**

"Peter, you are Spider-Man…surely we both agree that you do dangerous things all the time," Catherine started slowly as she looked at the teen in front of her. "Right?"

"This is different." He fidgeted in the chair. He played with a stress ball in his lap and by the jitters, he had a heel bouncing too. She closed the medical files on her desk so he couldn't read them. It didn't matter, his attention was barely on anything in the room.

"So talking to your aunt about being Spider-Man is more scary than bank robbers?"

"Yeah."

"More than that vulture character?"

"Yup."

"You would rather be shot."

"Absolutely."

She rubbed her face. "You do remember I'm the one that has to deal with your bullet wounds?"

"No, no, no, you don't understand." There was no hesitation in his voice as he leaned forward. "She found out a couple weeks ago and well, it was okay and then she started watching the news for me and she, well, it's snowballed and now she's all worried and overprotective."

"Really?"

The sarcasm from her question got him to to still a little. "Come on Ms. Catherine. I don't know what to do. I need backup or something. I can't keep hiding outside our apartment, waiting to sneak in after she falls asleep waiting for me to come home."

Teenagers. Their logic was priceless.

"There is your first problem."

"I know. She needs to stop waiting for me." The stress ball was getting further and further pressurized in his hands.

"No-"

He squeezed the ball too hard. The plastic cover ripped and foam beads burst out in rivulets. He froze looking guilty but she was already pulling the trash can around for him. It was high time she went to Walgreens to get an Iron Man one. There would be something therapeutic about squeezing her stress into her boss.

Peter was dressed normally. To the rest of the Stark office, she had become friends with the teen. Since Andy, she had let him grow closer, or if she was honest with herself, he was persistently worming further into her life.

One of the more observant staff had pressed her on the relationship once. To that, she had insisted that she had enrolled in Big Brothers, Big Sisters and he was her Little. Nobody was the wiser.

Who would have thought Peter Parker was Spider-Man?

The white fuzz covered his hands as he brushed them awkwardly over into the trash can.

"Destruction of property," she said evenly, "That's not very neighborhood of you."

He tried to smile but it came out wrong, crooked and half hazard. "Sorry Ms. Catherine…Hey, do you think I could invite MJ to Mr. Stark's engagement party as my plus one?"

"Sure."

MJ and Peter had gone on a few "hangouts with friends" now. It had been mildly successful but Peter still panicked at the idea of them going on anything that started with a "d" and ended in an "e". She was sure the poor girl probably had no idea that Peter liked her.

"I figure she would freak at the chance to meet Mr. Stark so then…I dunno, that might be good?"

Catherine smiled at him. "You are doing a wonderful job of trying to distract me, Peter."

"Did it work?"

"Not in the slightest." She pushed her point. "You just need to talk and listen with your aunt. She's probably just afraid that you are going to get yourself killed."

That had been her own concern not too long ago. Since then, she had accepted it. He was a superhero and this came with the territory. Her job was to patch him up over and over again and now, strangely, to talk to him when he needed it.

He paused and his face crunched up, working the puzzle pieces of confronting his aunt on his antics. She got up, pulling the files off her desk and putting them back. There was actual work to be done. She had a check up with a technician in thirty minutes. He had been fighting off a cold from staying up late daily trying to a circuit done of the next Iron Man iteration.

She'd have to thank Tony soon endangering the health of his staff.

"Can you talk to her?"

She let out a short laugh. "No kid. This is your mountain to climb."

"It's perfect." He got up. "You're my nurse. You take care of me. You can tell her that I don't get hurt."

She gave him a long withering look.

"Last week was a strange week."

"You got hit by a taxi and then called Happy at 4 a.m. stating that you were feeling a little sore. I get there and you've got four broken ribs."

"It's New York! Taxis are crazy and I'm sure that he wasn't using his turn signals."

"No. I won't do it." She slammed the cabinet shut and went around the desk towards him

Peter got up. "I'm all better now plus don't forget the bird I saved by jumping in front of it. Come on Ms. Catherine, can you help me on this one?"

She spun him around and marched him towards the door. "The answer is still the same. You need to talk to her. Have a heart to heart. It isn't that scary."

"I just don't want her to worry anymore than she has to." He let her bully him into the hall, slinging his backpack across his back. "I didn't even want her to know but now it is just getting worse and worse."

"That's because you need to talk to her."

"-but."

She pushed him gently. "No buts! Now I've got work to do. Do it tonight. Text me when it's done."

He looked pained as she closed the door. The staff were used to him now. He could find his way out. Peter Parker had a guess pass unlike Spider-Man that just had to waltz in the front door.

Crazy kid.

He didn't text her. She was too busy doing follow up appointments to get in touch with him. Yet, she got her answer anyways. Happy gave her a call the next morning.

Peter had fallen inexplicably ill and the aunt was pretty torn up about it. Could she do a house call?

Damn smart kid.

* * *

_Here we go again! If you are coming over from In Stitches, thanks for coming. If you are new, thanks for making it! As usual allow me to state the canon rules I am bending:_

_I've had to tone down super healing a little for this story to work. They are still superheroes but something has to give._

_I'm trying to work within the timeline as much as possible but things may get a little stretched here and there._

_Finally I have no background in medicine so forgive any mistakes._

_What do you think? What kind of tomfoolery is Peter up to now? Let me know. As usual, I will respond with a snippet from the next chapter._

_Thank you for reading as always. I appreciate it. Let's enjoy the ride…yes? -Quin_

_Ps. I'm old school but I'll say this once. Tony, Peter and everything else belongs to Marvel. Catherine is my character and is owned by me._


	2. In Which Lies Are Spun

**Chapter 2: In Which Lies are Spun**

"Thanks for coming so quickly." Recognition crossed May's face as she opened the door. "Oh. It's you."

Catherine shifted her weight on her feet. "Yes, it does appear to be me."

Exhaustion was written across May's face as her plastered on smile shook. This was not what Catherine wanted. She wanted to be in her office. That was a good place.

The next couple minutes were spent confirming facts. Yes, she was Peter's nurse when they had first met. No, she did not typically do house calls. Yes, it was a pleasure to re-meet her too. The cheeriness in May felt forced as they chatted.

The apartment kept grabbing her attention. It was odd to see where Peter lived in. It was the complete opposite of hers. They lived in a small place but homey. Pictures and Peter's art lined the walls. Magazines were stacked on the dining room table.

Catherine's apartment suffered from a certain blankness. They could probably try to sell her place and no one notice that someone was still living there. It didn't matter. She didn't spend time there anyways. Work kept her busy.

May leaned in, drawing her focus. "This whole superhero thing…I'm not sure what to think. Is there a manual on it? Did I miss a footnote somewhere?"

"If you missed something, I missed an entire class." The smile hurt against her face.

May's eyes went towards the back. "Do you treat him when he's…on the job as well? Or only afterwords?"

She felt this going places that she didn't want it to go. Peter was getting her exactly where he wanted her. Catherine stood her ground and adjusted her medical bag against her shoulder.

"I'm there when he needs me. Speaking of that, should we go see him?" She turned to head in deeper but May stepped into her way.

"I want to be the cool aunt but I need to ask, how much danger is he in?" She took a second, the happiness slipping from her face and her arms crossing over her stomach. "I'm supposed to protect him and now I see the news and all the things that he's doing…"

Catherine didn't get to respond. She didn't get a chance. May's face brightened, her arms fell and she ran over her last statement. "I don't mean this to be awkward for you. On the brighter side, at least some things make sense now. He's been eating me out of food for months. For a while, he wouldn't look me in the eyes. Now he sleeps in the morning. He used to be my little morning bird."

May laughed. It was hollow.

"He's still figuring this out too," Catherine said.

May leaned closer, the whispering loudly. "But I thought that he would trust me with anything. I could help him with this or convince him stop. Instead he's shut me out. I've been relaxed about so many things. Was that a mistake? I've just wanted him to have healthy teenage years, teenage angst and all."

Catherine felt pinned between a rock and a hard place. "I can see how that would be frustrating."

The beauty of that phrase was that the more you thought about it, the more the substance of it melted away into nothing. It was empty.

"I thought that the hormones thing was bad enough. Now he's a superhero?"

There was a snort followed by a round of high pitched coughing from another room.

Aunt May threw up her hands, all seriousness dropped. "I may still ground you for life, little man."

"Oh noooo…" The whine wavered in pitch.

"Come on." She passed Catherine. "Now he's come down with this super-cold so quickly. Peter insisted that he was fine but he mentioned you. I want you to just look at him. I don't know what I'm looking for anymore."

"Sure."

Peter's room was small and as messy as she expected it to be. There was a stack of kicked off shoes in the corner and a sweater thrown over the desk chair. Peter himself was in bed, wrapped up over his head in a blanket with a sprinkling of food and drink surrounding him. A larger circle of used Kleenex ringed the floor.

The suit was hung up in the open closet. It was odd to see there. It was an exposed nerve. If she touched it, this careful illusion of casualness would shatter.

"Hey Peter."

"Hey Ms. Catherine. Sorry, Aunt May wouldn't take no for an answer." He squinted at her miserably. What a great little actor.

She settled down in the chair that had been pulled close to Peter's comforter cocoon. "What seems to be the problem?"

"He's running a fever and coughing." Aunt May cut in. A smile almost flickered across Peter's face. He hid it by hacking into the blanket. He barely pulled this off.

"A fever huh?" She pulled on gloves and found her pulse oximeter and thermometer. "Finger and open up please."

He wheezed. "I'm really okay ma'am."

Catherine gave him a serious look. "I'm here to take care of you. It's my job. Now finger and mouth please."

"Really-"

"Why don't you stop fussing before I give you a diagnosis just on sight?" Her voice went sweet. "I'd hate to give you a steroids shot or set you up on an IV when I might not need too. That's a lot of pain and hassle for both of us."

A pale face, a real one this time, greeted her. A hand appeared from underneath the covers. She clipped on the heart monitor. Peter accepted the thermometer. He looked anxiously between both of them as the machines clicked and beeped.

Catherine looked at the numbers, sighed and set the equipment down on his bed. "I'm sorry Mrs. Parker but I need to speak to Peter alone to ask him a couple questions."

"Superhero questions?" May's arms returned to cross her stomach. Her voice was higher pitched that she wanted. "I'm in the know now."

Catherine swallowed. "Yes, but this is a patient confidentiality."

"Oh."

Catherine could see May looking at her kid, tiny under the sheets, and trying to imagine what needed to be said. Catherine had used the big words, the official ones that created a solid concrete wall. Catherine hated to shut her out. It was exactly what May didn't need but all Catherine wanted to do was politely ring Peter's neck. That couldn't be done with an audience.

"Of course…" May's face wavered on insisting and then the smile came across her face again, broad and filled with illusionary understanding. "_Of course_. I'll try my hand at some boxed chicken noodle soup. Maybe this time I won't burn it."

The door clicked closed.

"What do you think you are doing?" Catherine turned on him, hissing the words out. "If you think this is funny. It isn't. You are as healthy as you were yesterday. This fever is normal for you. Your internal temperature is always warmer than average."

He sat up, the covers falling from his shoulders. "Did you talk to her? Tell her that everything is going to be fine?"

"Why don't you do that?"

He hesitated for one remarkable moment. "Because…"

"Because it's hard, isn't it Peter?" It came out sharp, bitter and cutting.

"Ms. Catherine, can't you see how worried she is?" His face fell and he circled the spaceships on his comforter. "I want her to not worry about me. I want her to think about her job and the bills and everything else. Like she used too."

There was something breaking in him, a stress fracture, the lines grinding against each other.

She could comfort it or tell him the truth.

She sighed and zipped up her bag. Neither option was good. She shouldn't be in this position. His eyes followed her movements as he probably tried to guess what she was going to do. Nothing she said was going to be right.

"This is part of it." She said slowly, "You made the decision to be Spider-Man. That means a lot of things. Some days it is going to be fun. Some days it is going to hurt the people around you. Stark pays everyday. You know that."

She saw that man in his office silhouetted against his desk, the room smelling heavy of whiskey.

Now she saw a shine in Peter's eyes and a wobble in his voice. "I can't stop being Spider-Man."

Damn, he was too young for this.

"We both know that." She put a hand on her shoulder. He leaned into it and something in her wavered. She couldn't soften now.

"If you are honest with her, she'll listen. If you sugarcoat things, she'll know it." She looked him in the eyes. "Okay?"

There was a nod. She squeezed his shoulder a little before releasing. Contact was strange between them. She did it because it was what he needed but it wasn't comfortable. He was still her patient in part of her mind.

He swallowed a few times before he asked again. "Can you talk to her first?"

She rolled her eyes and stood. "You drive a hard bargain. Only if you never pull this kind of trick again. Okay?"

"Okay."

She shook her head and started towards the door. "I'm going to prescribe that you stay in that bed for the rest of the day and drink lots of water. You're a little dehydrated anyways. Miraculously recover overnight. Okay?"

"Yes ma'am."

Aunt May was hovering in the hallway as she left. Her promise hung over her head as they talked about Peter's condition. Catherine diagnosed exhaustion. May's questions were strictly practical, what she should do, how he was doing, etc, but under the surface Catherine could see the real ones. The ones that only Peter could really answer.

She didn't want this. She was already so involved in this kid's life. Mediation wasn't needed on top of the flaming heap that was her life.

At the door, Catherine forced herself to stop, to turn back, to look May in the eyes. "Look, Peter loves being Spider-Man. It's good for him."

The facade crackled. May's smile turned into something different. Sorrow crept into the wrinkles on her face. "That's good to know."

"He's…" she realized how meaningless May's response was and added, "he's a good kid."

"He is."

Catherine pulled a business card from her medical bag and gave it to her. "Here's my work number and email. It says I'm a nurse for the technical department but you know it's a little more than that now. Give me a call at work if you get in a bind. This stuff is a bit tricky, especially at first."

"You're telling me." The smile returned but it wasn't real. It looked like a bandaid on a wound that was bleeding through. She tucked the card in her back pocket. "Thanks for helping him. I know this is dangerous."

"No problem." It was all she could think to say.

The door closed abruptly and Catherine stared at the paneling for a few minutes. May's footsteps faded away. The wood was worn and Catherine listened to the silence. She turned away and started back to the parts of her job where everything made sense.

* * *

_I feel like the alternate title for this chapter should be "In Which Everything Goes Slightly Wrong". What do you think? Was there a way where Peter's plan could have gone right? Some part of me doubts it...drop a review letting me know._

_Thank you for reading as always. -Quin_


	3. In Which Tony Tinkers

**In Which Tony Tinkers**

Tony looked up from the burn on his arm. "Well, what does your medical expertise think of this?"

He rested on his lab table as Catherine sat in a chair next to it, carefully looking at the small burn. Apparently, he had been trying new thruster technology and gotten his own body in the way. She hadn't asked for the details. Her gloved fingers prodded around the traumatized skin looking for further damage but finding none.

"I think for claiming to be so smart." She leaned back, stretching the muscles in her back. "You've been pretty stupid."

Stark Industries was readying for an EXPO, causing the billionaire to move back to NYC for a couple weeks. To her chagrin, he bothered her constantly. Even worse, Stark had stopped with the official meetings and started calling her office number with the phrase: "Cathy, come."

The first couple times she had told him that she wasn't his dog. It didn't stop him. It actually made it worse. Today was the first time the call had been worth her time.

He hissed through his teeth as she started to apply antibiotic cream in small circles. It would need to be sealed against getting contaminated further with debris and oil. The man was covered in it. This burn was small, strangely so for Stark to call her up. She frowned. Pepper had dragged Tony to her office for much worse.

She started to bandage the burn, sealing in the cream. She pushed a couple wires out of her way to set down her supplies. The lab was a mess. A very modern mess with high tech computers banks installed everywhere and a dozen soda cans covered every surface.

"I tried to call you yesterday but you weren't here." He winced as the bandage stretched over his skin. "Apparently you were doing a house call on the kid?"

"Yes I did." She raised an eyebrow.

There it was. The real reason that she was there. Her fingers left the finished bandage and he slipped away from her immediately, beelining for one of the sodas, picking it up, putting it down, picking up another and discarding that one as well. It took him four tries to find one that still had some liquid in it.

Things had been easier between them since Cap and Natasha had moved on to Europe. There had been less worry and slinking around to hide from the man.

He finished off the can and put it back down. Couldn't he just recycle it like a normal human being? She pretended to be interested in an Iron Man arm that was sitting on a workbench. She picked it up and stared at the complex inside. Half the protective plating was off.

The silence dragged. If he wanted to know more, he was going to have to ask.

"I didn't get a report from you on it." He finally added.

She hid the smile on her face by lifting up the arm to peer at the padded interior. "Like I said, I've had a lot of work lately and that is low on the priority list. I've got nothing in the system on it yet."

"I know."

"Does it get sweaty in here?" She slipped her hand in just to aggravate him. It clamped down instantly, gripping firmly to her arm. She jumped back, pressing a hand against the cuff. It didn't budge. It hummed and clicked instead.

Tony's eyebrows only raised. "I guess you'll find out soon."

"Get it off Stark." She could feel the metal joints working as they adjusted and readjusted as she moved her arm around.

He picked up a screwdriver, twisting it in his hands. "You stuck your hand in there. So what was up with our spider friend?"

She placed the arm heavily against his work table, groping for the release button that she knew wasn't there. "Get this off of me. I don't want to have to treat your third degree burns because I set this thing off."

"Oh. Good point. FRIDAY. Turn off all flight and weapon capabilities of Mark 48 test arm please."

"Turned off sir."

She turned her head up. "FRIDAY-"

"Ignore her." He snapped.

"Ignoring Doctor Crow, sir."

There were moments like this where she considered various different types of revenge on Tony. Her favorite included prescribing that he get a colonoscopy.

"You know you are living the dream of hundreds of small children." He took his screwdriver and tapped against the metal on her arm. It rung out but she barely felt the vibration. "So the kid."

She placed her free hand against the cold outside and pushed. "This was never a dream of mine."

"It should have been."

Catherine shook her head and balled her fist. The glove curled at the joints.

"Wait, wait, wait." The screwdriver dropped from his fingers, rolling across the table. He grasped the metal hand. "You're comfortable in there?"

He turned the glove to the right and left, mystified at something. The hand looked the same as it always did on him.

"Please stop holding my hand like it is a science experiment."

"The suit adjusted itself," he muttered to himself. "Look at that. The regulators are stretched but compensating. No. No. Stay."

He held onto the arm piece as she tried to pull away. Damn it all, she would walk out of this office with the arm still attached to her, get to the tech lab, and let them pry it off her piece by piece before allowing herself to be a further test subject.

"I won't call you the rest of the day if you stay," He said and after a second, she settled back down into th

"So…" Tony's eyes didn't look up to see the look she gave him. He turned her hand and with a firm pull, popped the top of the glove off. The interlocking gears and wires moved like the muscles of an animal. He extended her fingers before letting them curl back.

Before something she said something she would regret, a new voice came in from behind her. "Tony! What are you doing to our poor nurse practitioner? Weaponizing her?"

Pepper's matter-a-fact tone and clicking heels told her that she was in a working mood. Catherine turned in the arm to see her holding a tablet and several newspapers.

Tony's focused snapped from her to Pepper. "The regulators are compensating for Doc's fingers. I didn't teach it to do that."

Pepper gave her a pained expression and she came over.

"That's great honey." Pepper's voice sounded like a mother's. "You should clean this mess up today and please do let Catherine out of that before she tries to quit again."

"I'll clean it up before the party." Tony's attention was gone from her and Catherine's hand fell from his. The closer Pepper came, the more Tony drifted towards her, standing up to meet her. He probably didn't even notice. Her face was still set in all business face but now under the surface was a tired amusement.

"That's still a few weeks away." She pulled up her phone. "The Thompsons called. They want to bring their niece."

"I can't stand their niece." He reached out for her and Catherine hoped that he hadn't forgotten that she was in the room.

"Worse is that their niece works for a newspaper but we have to say yes."

"That must be why," he said quietly as his hands tried to draw her in close.

She pushed him away with the edge of the newspaper and walked over to Catherine. "I'm wearing white today and you are absolutely covered in grease. Take a shower. How are you?"

"Ready to have this taken off."

Pepper looked calm and relaxed as the billionaire sulked behind her to pick up some abandoned piece of tech.

"Tony you should really clean all this up." She gestured to everything, almost everything, at least the floor was clean. "Tomorrow is the interview from the New York Times piece."

"I don't want to. It helps me think."

"Tony..."

"I think it is normal."

"It's not normal.

Tony turned to Catherine. "What do you think?"

Both of them stared at her with an intensity. Pick a side, they asked. As much as she wanted light the match for this fight, she didn't want to be in following explosion.

"I think," she gritted her teeth, braced herself against the metal arm, and pulled, hard. It tugged painfully but released her. "I think what I've thought for the last five minutes. I really just want to get back to work."

The arm fell off her, dropping to the table in two large pieces.

"No more experiments." She shook her finger at Tony and then left, quickly, before the couple could drag her into anymore strange relationship questions or arguments. She had better things to do.

* * *

_Fun fact. I probably rewrote parts of this chapter about four times. I think I finally hit it just right. I don't know why I have so much fun writing Tony being self-absorbed and Catherine getting mad at him for it. __It's just a blast. _

_I can only imagine planning the wedding is a nightmare for Pepper. I really feel for her. What did you think of the chapter?_

_Thanks for reading as always - Quin_


	4. In Which Alarms Sound

**In Which Alarms Sound**

"Do you know what Peter is doing?"

The words rung through Catherine's head as she woke up. Before she had a true chance to get her bearings, she had picked up her ringing phone, accepted the call and had it to her ear. There had been too many phone calls at night from work for it not to be muscle memory. The voice didn't sound like the usual overnight Stark security. That man was somewhere between despair and pushing a button to destroy the world.

Catherine twisted in bed, curling towards the large clock at her bedside. It was nearing 6 am.

"Who is this?" She asked groggily. The voice sounded so familiar but after the deep dreams that she had been in, she couldn't quite place it.

"This is Peter's Aunt May."

Oh no. She rubbed her face and pulled herself up unwillingly, hair falling across her face. "Is there a medical emergency? Did he come home hurt?"

The kid needed to lay low for the sake of the Parker family. Even Tony had mentioned it to him in a stern fashion in a very rare phone call. Peter had even mentioned how hesitant he had been to answer in the first place.

"No. He hasn't come home at all. He keeps texting me that he's at Ned's but I know he isn't. I talked to his mom earlier. Usually he's home by three." There was real worry in her voice. "Spider-Man hasn't even made the news. I don't know what he's doing."

"If he's texting you that he's at Ned's then I would leave it at that," she said. Everything ached and already she knew that she wasn't going to be able to get back to sleep. A tired anger itched in her. "This line is for emergencies only."

"This is an emergency. He's not home. My calls keep going to voicemail." Aunt May's voice cracked. Catherine held her breath and then let it out slowly. This was no different than a distressed aunt in the hospital. She had just so happened to be asleep when the call occurred.

May added filling the silence as Catherine thought. "I'm sorry to call but I don't know what to do. I feel like I'm going crazy. I tried to call Tony but the office is still closed."

She must have used her office number on the business card which has an option to page through to her cell phone in case of life threatening emergencies. Before tonight, three people had called using the pager. Three of the four times had been a very drunk Tony claiming that his head was too big for his neck and he needed a replacement body. The last time was a IT security woman whose half blind grandfather had tried to cut the turkey.

This was a valid call.

"Okay." Catherine pressed back her hair and reached for her glasses. "I'll try to find out."

"Thank you."

Catherine hung up before hearing anything else. Her head fell into her hands and she rubbed her temples. They really needed to talk about all of this before it got any worse. Peter needed to be honest about what he did and for May to listen.

The air conditioner clicked and kicked on filling the room with white noise. Besides that, the room was still quiet. In her little spot in the world, nothing had changed. The sooner that she handled this, the sooner it would be out of her mind and she could proceed with her life.

She dialed Peter's cell.

He picked up on the second ring.

"Oh hey Ms. Catherine. What's up?" His voice was muffled. He was in his suit then which meant that he was certainly not at Ned's. This kid needed to be smarter.

"I was just woken up by your aunt wanting to know where you are, so where are you?"

The line went silent. He was still there, just panicking. She took a drink of water and got up to open the blinds. The sight outside wasn't great, she lived in Manhattan, but the light streamed in pinks and reds. It hurt her eyes for a second but helped start the wake up process.

"…she called you?" He finally offered.

"Yes and said it was an emergency."

"Oh man."

She started for the kitchen. The sun didn't help that much. Coffee was needed now.

"That doesn't even start it. It's 6 am Peter. I'm not going to mom you but you have no business being out this late." She pushed through the door into her kitchen. It wasn't that big of an apartment.

"Oh man."

There was the seriousness and horror that she was looking for. She stumbled into her kitchen and started her coffee pot early. It was set up to start at 7:15 but obviously that was going to be a little late. A small part of her felt a twitch of pain, she needed that sleep.

She leaned against the counter. "Now. Where are you?"

The coffee started to splatter. That would make everything a little bit better. She'd bought herself a nice coffee maker for Christmas last year and had never looked back to peasant coffee. Starbucks didn't even taste good anymore.

"Do you know that sketchy lab downtown?"

She needed that coffee sooner than the machine would make it.

"Paragon?"

"Oh no. Further south. By the bad donut place."

"Vortexaid?"

"Vortex is cool."

"Not when they are playing around with the aerodynamics of the human form."

"Fine. You know the IE?"

"The Intervention place?" She poured the coffee into her IKEA mug. It had absolutely no personality. Just the way that she wanted the things in the rest of her life.

"The Research Center of the Intervention of Ecology," Peter whispered, "I got a tip that something sketchy was going on here and well…I'm kinda trapped inside."

"_Peter_."

Of course. Now he was in real trouble. She shook her head and reached for the sugar.

"I was hoping that maybe when the night crew leaves I can get out of this vent. But they are doing really sketchy stuff, Ms. Catherine. There's like moving black goo, animals with two heads, creepy stuff in tubes. You know. The works."

She disregarded most of that. "You're stuck in a vent?"

"Yeah, I thought security was off then I tripped it and the only way that I could get away was to get in this vent thing like the alien in that old movie Alien. Remember when you were worried about me hanging upside down for an hour? I'm on hour four now!"

This was getting ridiculous.

"I'm calling Tony."

The response was immediate on the line."Please don't do that Ms. Catherine, please. I think the night crew leaves at 7. Give me until then."

She fixed the coffee and took a good long drink. "That's not going to happen kid."

The words started rushing out of him in one long stream. "Please Ms. Catherine, I'm trying to do something right here. Everything's been so wrong, I thought that if I did something big, it would make everybody feel better. You know?"

Catherine winced as she took another drink of the coffee, hoping that would help her.

Peter took this as an indication to continue. "Doing superhero stuff. Saving people. I'm pretty good at this stuff."

She rubbed her forehead. "Peter."

The caffeine did nothing.

"It's almost time. I think, no, I remember the way out. It'll just be easier if everyone is on the move and then I'll make a big fat distraction and off I'll go. Easy peasy."

She kept her voice steady. "If you are trying to make your aunt worry less, this is the exact opposite of that."

"I know." It was a quiet agreement, something that had heart in it. Even the inexhaustible Peter Parker sounded tired.

She shouldn't. One call to Tony and then everything that would be set. Knowing Peter's luck, Tony would probably even mention it to Aunt May. Whatever was in that lab didn't sound good and this was certainly dangerous. He probably needed saving. If she called Tony, it was a guarantee that somehow May would find out.

Yet, he needed this boost. The last couple days were bruising for him. She had seen the stress in his eyes. Sometimes maybe, Spider-Man needed to save Peter a little.

"Okay."

"Thanks Ms. Catherine. I owe you one."

"Text me when you get out."

She hung up before she could change her mind. Her mouth was dry. The call to Aunt May was quick. Peter was fine but on a secret mission and didn't want to worry her.

So Catherine sat in her kitchen, holding her coffee and waiting for the phone to bing. Regret already was sneaking up her throat and she watched the sun rise through her blinds. Her phone sat in front of her.

She waited a very long time to hear anything.

* * *

_I am going to be so thankful when November is over and I am not doing National Novel Writing Month and this at the same time. I am getting as sleep deprived as Catherine is. I am on target to finish on time though!_

_Things are starting to pick up a little now. I can't say too much so what did you think of the chapter?_

_Thank you for reading as always. It's my pleasure. - Quin_


	5. In Which The Temperature Rises

**In Which The ****Temperature**** Rises**

At 7:15 a.m., Catherine gave Peter's phone a call and it went straight to voicemail.

At 7:30 a.m., she realized that Peter's phone was either dead or off.

At 8:15 a.m., she jumped at her phone reminding her to take her vitamins.

At 8:30 a.m., she had almost called Tony's number three times.

At 8:35 a.m., she got the call from Happy.

By 9:30 a.m., Peter was on her examining table, shivering and sweating.

To say that the kid looked awful was an understatement. He looked worse than when he had been hit by that taxi last week. The suit was gone. He had peeled off immediately once he was in the privacy of her lab. Now he was in sweats and a t-shirt. They were already plastered with sweat.

Peter had a brave smile but every episode of shivers shattered it. He didn't even try to sit on the examining table, instead crawling onto it and laying down like he had finished three marathons in one day.

If it wasn't for her years of medical training, the guilt would have been staggering.

He was burning. There was a fever. She listened to his lungs quickly. No blockage. There was a strain on the little body. He was stiff. Worse of all, the chatterbox was barely talking.

"What happened to 'easy peasy' Peter?" The question was almost rhetorical.

She put her stethoscope around her neck and placed her gloved hand against his forehead. The heat was bad. Already the heart monitor was showing an organ frantically keeping up with the apparent fever.

His teeth chattered. "Still easy peasy."

Her smile was hidden but tight against her face. Her medical mask was starting to make sweat prick her cheeks. She watched his chest and the clock. His respiratory rate was high and the breaths were shallow and quick. It wasn't quite at the point of hyperventilation but he was certainly getting there.

"Let's make that a little easier, okay? I'm going to slip this on." She eased the oxygen mask around his head and started the flow. He barely seemed to notice it. His eyes were sluggishly tracking her movements. She was trying to rush through getting the vitals but her mind was spinning trying to find an answer to this illness.

"What happened?" She slipped on the blood pressure cuff. The sweat made it easy.

"You look funny in the mask and glasses. Why are you wearing one?" He asked in a sideways fashion.

Not a good sign. She needed to hurry.

"Because, Peter, I can't catch what's wrong with you. If it is getting you, then it'll crush me. Relax for a moment." She had taken out her contacts for her glasses. She had forgotten about doing it. Her body had gone on automatic pilot as she prepped for this situation.

The cuff filled and deflated. Peter's blood sounded in her ears. It was weak. The tension was in her chest now. She pulled off the stethoscope, ripped the cuff loose and placed it to the side.

Her physical examination was enlightening. It made her more concerned. Besides the few typical superhero scrapes and bangs, two large black bruises were on his side. They were about the size of baseballs and blacker than they should be. Peter twitched as she touched them. He had no idea how he had gotten them.

"Now, concentrate, what happened?"

He did try, she could see him trying to put the fragments together. "I tried to break out. I broke some suspicious lab stuff open to cause a distraction. One of them was filled with a funny tasting gas. I guess I blacked out 'cause I woke up on the floor and then I started feeling really hot. I escaped. It…it didn't go away."

Something that looked like fear came into his eyes. "Do you know what it is?"

She continued. "Have you been sick since you turned into Spider-Man?"

"No. Not even," he paused, "the whole school went down with Janice's mystery cookies."

Poor school nurse and janitors. Catherine nodded but there was nothing in her mind. Even with broken bones, she'd set them and know Peter would be healed by the end of the week. She'd never tell the kid this but he was, to a degree, invincible.

Except for now.

"Tell Aunt May that I'm still on the mission." He shivered again. "I can't-she won't." His face went white.

She barely got the trash can to him in time.

"You need to rest." She rubbed his back as she helped him lay back down. Part of her shook now. "I'm going to set you up on I.V. and give you something for that fever. We'll run some blood work too. I'm writing Peter Parker a doctor's note for school as well."

He nodded. There was barely any color in his face.

"We will beat this." Her voice sounded so calm compared to the swirl in her mind. What the hell was stronger than his healing?

"Thank you ma'am." It was a small and wavering sound.

She stayed frozen in place for a moment.

"Let me go get some supplies, shout if you need something." She got up in a jerk and grasped the trash can. She moved the recycling can to his side. The room seemed so small then, everything focused on the teen. Her jaw ached from clenching it. A normal fever she could handle. This did not seem normal. Everything was too heightened too quickly.

He tried to smile at her one more time as she stripped off the mask, lab coat and the gloves and dumped them in the biohazard can near the door.

"Don't worry Peter," she said and closed the door on him.

It was her fault. Anger pounded in her head. All she could do now was fix what she saw in front of her. Everything pointed it to being a bad fever. Maybe it was the flu. In any other kid, she might just proceed as if it was. She shook her head at that. Beyond her medical knowledge, she felt like it had to be more. He had opened numerous containers. One of them could have been containing a new virus.

It could be anything. Her imagination wanted to go crazy with the possibilities.

"Don't stand there looking shocked. It's disturbing. Give me an update."

That blasted her out of her own thoughts. Tony stood a foot away. The muscles in his arms stretched tight against his skin as he crossed them. She had forgotten that he was waiting outside for her. She'd had fought him tooth and nail to stay out of the room.

Seeing someone healthy hurt her. The difference was astounding. Peter was almost see-through compared to the Tony. The energy level alone made her stare. To be able to see another human being stand seemed like a miracle.

"Come on. I'm not giving you the big bucks to look like a deer in the headlights." He snapped his fingers in her face.

Something clicked into place, locking away all the extra emotions and crazed imagination. They would do nothing to help her. Only the calm and collected nurse could really help Peter. Time and time again in the ER, she had discovered the best thing that she could do for her patient was treat what she saw in front of her.

Tony snapped again impatiently.

She brushed Tony's hand away. "No, you pay me the 'big bucks' to take care of Peter. Now let me do that."

She turned down the hall not waiting for a response. In this moment, she didn't owe him anything.

"What's wrong with him?" He nagged her.

"I'm getting him some medicine to knock down the fever, liquid acetaminophen. I think we have that," She shouted over her shoulder and then muttered to herself, "I hope we have enough of it." She was mentally shifting. There was a list that needed to be put together of everything that she needed. She couldn't waste time.

He didn't go away. "I've got a very concerned hot aunt downstairs. What's got him?"

"I'm going to run some blood work." Her keycard opened the lab door. It hissed open and the lights flickered on. She tried to slam it in his face. A quiet lab would be good. Disappointingly, he made it through. It was something about owning the building that meant he could open any lock.

She had to get back to Peter. Already it had been too long. She pulled open the fridge, going for one of the neatly packed IV bags. Then she grasped another one just to be safe. The rest of the intravenous kit was in a nearby drawer. Turning around, Tony was standing in between her and a cart.

"Move. Please."

He took two steps to left but that looked like all the ground that he was willing to give.

"Thank you."

She dropped the bags and the equipment on the top. The rest of the materials would be easy. Most of them were already on the table. She had prepped before Peter had arrived. Happy had said simple things like he was "out of sorts" and "sorta sweaty". She had thought a dislocated limb. Cute. Her prep wasn't even close to sufficient.

Now for the acetaminophen.

"Doctor Crow, I need answers now." Tony grabbed her arm, yanking her to a stop. Her shoes slid against the tile.

"Stark, you need to calm down and let me go." The words came out icier than she wanted them to be.

The fingers on her wrist loosened.

"You want to know that I'm thinking? Here is what I know," She said as she moved to unlock a cabinet, "The kid has a fever that would kill a normal person. BPM won't mean much to you so let's just say his heart is beating faster than Usain Bolt's. He just vomited his breakfast, no actually, last night's dinner."

She held up the bottle to the light. It was half full. It was enough to get started. "The worst part is he's scared, really scared, and there is nothing that I can do about it that."

She paused to check on the billionare. Something had softened in him as if he was processing the words. He hadn't moved but his posture was falling apart, the strong man routine breaking down by an inch.

"I don't have those answers." Her voice stumbled on that sentence so she pushed on. "I can treat the symptoms but it could take much longer to understand the why."

The statement made it real. A truth in her mind. His face changed again and he nodded. This was a serious situation. Catherine put the medication on a cart. She double checked the items. The cold tools felt good in her hands. These could be used for something.

Now he was silent.

And it was grating against her nerves.

"He went into a shady lab dealing with biological experiments. I'm a nurse practitioner here, not a scientist. Then he comes in like this," She said and syringes clattered on her cart, "Give me an hour. I'll get him stable. That I can do."

"Handle May. You're smart. You've talked hundreds of people into weapons they don't need. Do it with her. Get her to wait. I need Peter alone." Catherine arranged herself behind the cart. He still hadn't moved.

She threw up her hands.

"If you feel like it later we can have all the tea and crumpets and cookies you want and we can talk." Catherine stared Stark directly in the eyes and raised her chin. Then strands of hair had fallen in her face so she pulled it impatiently back again in a ponytail.

Muscles were pulling in Tony's jaw as she put her hands on the handle of the cart. Her words weren't a lie. Her ears strained to hear Peter. It had been too long.

The wheels squeaked against the tile. The cart brushed past him as she opened the door. Tony stayed behind in her lab. Fine with her. He could play with all the needles and thread he wanted.

She had real work to do.

* * *

_Fun fact: Since I finished Nanowrimo, I've had time to do a reread and tweak things. I rewrote almost the entirety of the back half of this chapter and I love it now. Catherine can be a powerhouse. It's about time that she showed it._

_Only in a writer way do I find it funny that Peter pretends to be sick and then two chapters later this happens._

_What do you think?_

_Thank you for reading as always. -Quin_


	6. In Which They Talk It Out

**In Which They Talk It Out**

Peter slept curled on his side.

Wires appeared and protruded from under the blanket and weaved to the monitor. The vitals were still stable. His face was swallowed by some childhood slumber. Only the oxygen tube and the paleness of his cheeks broke that illusion.

Catherine shook as she moved. The adrenaline and her own low blood sugar being the simple cause of it. She couldn't remember the last time she ate. The chair complained under her weight but it felt so good. Her breath came out quietly. She still watched his numbers and lines, monitoring and rechecking the stats with what was normal for him. Shortly after meeting him and finding out his baselines, she had committed them to memory. It was only good practice.

The time on her clock was unreal. Six hours were gone. She hadn't felt a single one of them. It was worth it to get Peter stable. Catherine had pumped the kid full of fluids and antibiotics which he ate up at an alarming rate. The fever had broken a couple hours in and he had started to respond weakly to treatment. By hour five, she had been able to fully carry him out of immediate danger.

Her eyes dipped and she supported her head. The chair squealed further under her weight as she sank further back. The muscles in her neck were screaming.

The tests told her Peter Parker had succumbed to a strange almost parasitic variation of the flu. It was hard to believe.

It didn't matter. The primary tests stated that and she had treated it accordingly. Probably from a combination of exhaustion and drugs, the kid had slipped into sleep when the fever broke. Part of her job was listening to the human body. Peter slept to heal and not waking him had kickstarted that process.

Yet, his healing was still slow.

What had her plan for the day been? She couldn't even remember.

Her head rolled to her chest. She needed coffee or maybe, a little part of her whispered, she needed sleep. Blasphemy. There was an extra blanket for Peter but he had never asked for it. Her arm went out, grasping the fabric and pulling it over her chest. She wanted to be warmer but it was best to keep it colder for Peter.

He moved across the room and her eye, she hadn't realized that she had closed them, opened to check on him. He was fine, just a twitch, maybe his hand had extended out. The restlessness was insubstantial as long as those numbers held true. Everything besides the monitor felt strange and hazy.

Her knee came up, pushing against the arm of her chair, jamming herself further in. She was right here. Peter could wake her in less than a second if he needed too. She swallowed dryly and one final part of her tried to hold on to staying awake but her consciousness peeled off and she spun into sleep as well.

"The doc's all crashed out. I think you're okay to go in."

Tony? The words stirred her from blank dreams. How long had she been asleep? Someone stepped quietly across the room and the door clicked shut again. She felt so heavy and her mind moved slowly. She been dead asleep. Nothing ached yet but she was sure that was coming. She couldn't bother moving.

"Honey…?" Aunt May's voice woke her up. Pants rustled and shoes squeaked. She was couching down by the bed.

"Hey May…" Peter's voice was rough and sluggish. "You're here. I-" He was stopped as the cot squealed. May's let out a muffled sob in his shoulder.

Now Catherine couldn't move. The moment was too private, too personal. Nor did she have the heart to pull the aunt away. Peter shouldn't be contagious now. The fever had broken and she had not caught anything herself.

Peter's voice was quiet. "I'm okay. Ms. Catherine been taking good care of me."

"Look at this. You're all wired up. You look like a science experiment."

They laughed and hushed each other realizing that Catherine was still there. She stirred a little, adjusting the worst of the muscle cramps that were forming. They waited a second.

"She's really asleep." May whispered.

Peter whispered back. "She's kinda one of the reasons I'm still around. Not just this time, all the times."

A complete lie.

"You scared me Pete. You know that right?"

A pause. The pillow crumpled.

"I know."

"We can't keep not talking about this."

"I know."

"You can't hide this from me."

This time he almost cut her off. "I-I-I know. I just don't want you to be scared."

"I'm scared every day now. Every night you go out, I'm afraid that you aren't coming back."

"I'm sorry."

There was a real apology in there. He meant it.

"You know what would make me less scared?" Aunt May was mothering him now, bring him gently to her conclusion. Catherine couldn't remember how long she had been at this. It could have been less than a year. Peter didn't talk about his real parents.

"What?"

"If you told me the truth. The real truth."

There came the real pause.

"Okay."

"Okay?" The question was a teasing seriousness.

"Yeah. I'll tell you."

"Are you sure? Here, I need a closer look at that honesty." She asked and Peter stifled a yell. Catherine's eye peeked open. May had rolled into bed with him, shoving him over. He tried to push her away but it was too late. She settled in next to him.

"Hmmm…" she stared at him and flopped onto her back. "It appears to check out but don't think we'll won't need some ground rules."

"May-" He crumpled his face.

"I am still your cool aunt but you've got to give me this one." She shoved him in the shoulder. "I'll be reasonable."

"Okay, okay, okay."

They laid together on the cot, studying at the ceiling for a while. The words didn't need to be spoken. Their faces were a relaxed exhaustion and the tension disappeared in the room.

"I'm so tired," Peter said softly.

"Then go sleep you silly goose."

It was only a minute later before he was fast asleep leaning gently on her. May smiled softly at him before she followed him.

Catherine waited listening the deep breathing before stiffly getting up, checking Peter's vitals one last time, slipping out and leaving them in peace.

"Keep in touch," Catherine said, the nerves still strong in her stomach. "You will be here in two days for a check up after school. Come straight here."

"I'm better now but okay." Peter stood in front of her as if nothing had happened, the Spider-Man costume sanitized and put away in a backpack. He was the kid that she knew, all bright eyes and colorful.

As quickly as the flu had come, it subsided, breaking down as his body started making a sudden beeline towards normal in the late evening. Something kicked in within him. Call it a miracle or 4,000 mg of liquid acetaminophen in 12 hours.

She couldn't keep Peter here. He was back to his healthy spider-y self. He had even done a heart attack inducing tumble off the ceiling to prove it. Now he wanted to go to school the next day. Considering that neither Aunt May or her had succumbed to anything, she couldn't hold that up as a defense.

"I can see that…be careful the next couple days, okay?"

"Listen to your doctor, Peter," Aunt May said and held out her hand, "Thank you."

May meant more than what she said. She could see it in her eyes. It made Catherine want to squirm.

She took her grip firmly instead. "I'm a nurse practitioner and it's my job."

May's other hand went on top of hers. "It's been more than your job." Catherine looked at the hand.

"Rrrrriiiiggghhttt," Peter cut between them, breaking the contact. "We've got to go. Good bye Ms. Catherine!" That last line was point more at Aunt May who clearly had more things to say.

"Bye Peter." Catherine didn't want them to go. They left easy in each other's company. Catherine watched them disappear through the back door. This was too simple. He got sick and well too fast, even for him. Her fingers rolled into her palm.

Even worse than that, Spider-Man would be called for something dangerous. It was only a matter of time and frankly she wasn't sure if Peter Parker was ready for that.

* * *

_I almost jokingly called this chapter "In Which Everyone Takes Nap or Two". Honestly, I should probably be a little more serious about my chapter titles but I have too much fun with them at times. We are creeping up on Christmas and the holidays now. I've got to get my shopping done soon!_

_I like to mention this because I think sometimes readers forget or don't notice. This story has a schedule! It updates every Saturday...when I wake up. Haha._

_Things are rolling along here. Nothing too too exciting yet. I'm not going to try to kid anybody that everything is worked out. We're chapter six of nineteen. What do you think? Let me know._

_Thanks for reading as always. -Quin_


	7. In Which We Render Bananas

**In Which We Render Bananas**

Catherine's charcoal stick snapped in her fingers for the third time that night. The black pieces rolled and ran down her paper, leaving black smears on the still life across the bananas that she had been drawing.

"Rough week at work?"

"You could say that," she responded without looking at Ed.

As a form of "self care", she had enrolled herself in a drawing class to keep her mind off work. At first, she had been in a figure drawing class but seeing and thinking about the human body after hours of doing the same thing at work made her want to throw up or drink hard liquor. One of those things was bad for her health so she had dropped it and fell into a charcoal class.

Then this doofus came along and started ruining all her efforts to relax.

She started in with her kneaded eraser, the soft plastic picking up the pigment from the new smudge line.

"With the marathon coming up, boy, the shoe business had been really rough lately like almost impossible." Doofus continued to speak undaunted and unprompted as he studied his paper. She resisted rolling her eyes. While she respected that others have different standards of "rough", this man complained about everything.

And he had no idea what was on her mind.

"The runners are always nice but they are particular and now, so close to race, they want what they need now."

She hadn't slept terribly well last night. Peter's flu was still bothering her.

"If we have a shoe in pink, they want it in black. If we have it in black, they want it in pink. The store is so packed that we can't carry both colors."

Peter had gotten so sick so quickly. She had been afraid that she was going to loose him. That fear should be unfounded, this was the kid who smashed his face in concrete from heights that no respectable human could fall from and got up laughing. She hadn't overreacted. She knew his abilities probably better than anyone. Some doctors and nurses would panic over a normal reading on him.

This time, his body had been stretched to the breaking point.

"One of our regulars came in needing new shoe, his mileage was up on his old one and I drove out of the city to pick it up for him and bring it back. That's our level of customer service. Bam."

A virus was what got him? Granted it was a miscalculation in one cell that could bring down an entire organism but Spider-Man?

She started on darkening the shadows of the pile of bananas.

And then the sickness had just disappeared? Like that?

"So. It's your turn."

She blinked and paused, looking at him. Physically, he was every woman's dream: tall, handsome, and had somehow kept all his teeth aligned.

"What's made working at Stark Industries so rough? The EXPO?" He prompted.

She smiled at him painfully. "I'm here to draw some bananas."

That had no effect on Doofus.

"Yeah, yours are looking great."

"Thanks." She knew that she was supposed to return the compliment but commenting on a man's drawing of bananas could be taken the wrong way.

He shut up as the instructor passed by them. She started in on the background, large swaths of gray to highlight the lightness of the fruit.

"Hey Catherine," the instructor paused, her eyes jumping between her paper, the still life and her face, "How's it going? Work keeping you up late or that Little of yours?"

She set down the charcoal. "It's been a week."

The instructor grinned, "Watch your value changes. Don't hesitate to ask any questions, okay?"

Then she turned her attention to Doofus.

Catherine turned back. It just didn't sit right with her.

She needed to go over the test results again. Peter hadn't complained about symptoms after but Peter wasn't the type to tell her about something unless it was killing him. It had taken four broken ribs last time for him to call for help. A characteristic that he undoubtedly picked up from Tony.

Slipping everything back in her toolbox a couple minutes early, she told the teacher that work had come up and left early. Doofus's eyes followed her out the door. She knew that he had a question that she had been directing him away from for months.

Catherine didn't need any more men in her life. Period.

She took the subway back as she tried to puzzle over this one. She still had the blood samples but it was a matter of time to run more advanced testing. An advanced round would take hours and the scientists at work kept trying to blow themselves up. With the EXPO on everyone's heels, nobody had any time. Tony had even at to put aside his investigation of the RC of IE.

As she emerged, her phone buzzed. It was Peter.

_Can you meet me in our usual spot?_

She frowned. _Am I bringing first aid?_

_No. I've got burgers._ Her phone stated back at her along with a blurry picture of a yellow paper bag against a building.

She rolled her eyes but headed quickly to her apartment. He would take the silence as a yes.

She rode up to the top floor of her complex and then took service stairs, bringing her to a door that should be locked. Anyone with eyes could see that the lock had been broken. The metal guts hanging out for months now. This had brought little comfort to the "state-of-the-art" security that the building claimed that it had.

The breeze was always cooler up here as she stepped out on the maintenance area of the building. The air conditioners moaned away behind her unattractively but it was made up by the view. The whole city stretched out before her, most of the buildings being shorter than this one.

Peter was already there, sitting at the railing at the edge of the building, his legs tucked under, swinging them in the empty space.

"Burger?" He said through a mouthful of meat. Three burgers were neatly stacked next to him along with his discarded mask. He offered a greasy bag and she came over and grasped it. Carefully, she sat down near the railing.

He had done this with her a few times now.

Usually it was about the girl.

She peeled back the plastic, her heart seizing at the sight of the burger and then took the first glorious bite.

"So I did this clever thing and I thought you might like it." He started as the rest of the burger disappeared. He rumpled the plastic and then realized he had given his bag away. She handed it back over to him.

"Yes?"

The sun was starting to set, coloring the red and blue suit orange. The mask's eyes staring blankly at the sky. Spider-Man had been put aside for the moment. This was Peter.

"I staked out the area where Aunt May walks to the subway from work everyday." He started in on the next burger. "I helped old ladies cross the street, the kid lost his teddy bear and I gave it back, I even got to help get some people out of a car crash. A couple people that work with May in the nonprofit saw me. They'll tell her about it. I'm sure."

He grinned, a childlike pride. "Then, this is the best part, I bought some flowers and then when she was walking by, I dropped them down to her on a web. You should have seen her face. It's was amazing."

She opened her mouth and he interrupted her. "Then she texted me 'Thank Spider-Man for the flowers for me'!"

He shouted and fist pumped the air a few times before dropping back and sprawling on his back. He rolled his head towards her.

"It's working Ms. Catherine. She's gonna like Spider-Man soon."

There was no way that May didn't see through all of this.

"Sounds like you're working pretty hard." She finished off her burger as he rolled onto his stomach and started on his third.

"So hard." He mumbled. "Now she's watching my grades too. It's like she wanted me to go to college or something."

"You're going to college."

He made a face and waved a hand. "That's a decision for a couple years from now."

She shook her head.

"What did you do today?" He tossed the wrapping in the bag. He missed. Quickly, he spun out a web, caught it, pulled it in and tried again. This time the paper went in so he snapped the line expertly. The white web floated away in the breeze.

"Work and then art class."

"Sorry I haven't tried to get you into any shows. I've been busy and you've not sent me anything new. Plus the engagement-" His eyes went wide. "I forgot to tell you! I've got two major problems in taking MJ to the engagement party plan. First of all, it's formal, like suits and ties, did you know that?"

Here we go.

"I read the invitation so yes, I did know that." She reached over and put her wrapping in the bag like a normal human being.

"The second part is worse."

"Hmmm…?" She stretched out her legs trying to pull the kinks from sitting for so long.

"I have to ask her."

She laughed.

It came out in a burst that she didn't expect. The problem shouldn't have been a surprise. Being a teenager was hard, much harder now that there were things like Snapchat and Twitter. Yet, it was such a basic part of the plan. She focused and gathered herself to readdress the teen.

Peter's face was buried in his hands.

"Sorry. Yes, I don't think that she will show up on her own."

"It's not a date," he said through his fingers.

"Never said it was. You just have to be a big boy and ask her anyways."

"Right. I just don't want to sounds like a snob or something." He waved around his arms, puffed up his chest and deepened his voice. "Hello MJ. I've got an invite to the most famous party of the year 'cause I'm Spider-Man. Ho ho, I'm so famous. Do you want to come to the eight course meal with a vegan option? Oh yes, a 'floor length gown' is required."

He groaned falling in on himself, embarrassment taking over completely.

"You won't sound like that." Catherine was still deciding if she was going to go. She was almost contractually obligated but she still played around with the idea of freedom.

"I'll just tell her that I got the ticket from the Stark Internship and that I thought she might like the opportunity to laugh at some rich people or something."

"Those will certainly be there."

"What if something goes terribly or she takes it the wrong way? I don't want her to think that I'm the rich snob." By the worry in his eyes, it was like his whole life rode on this. Catherine brushed some stray hairs away. Someday she wanted to meet this MJ, even if it was in passing. She sounded like quite the riot.

"Just practice a couple times and then do it. You'll be fine."

He nodded as he finished his last bite. A police car sounded off in the distance. It was a mermaid's siren call to Peter. She could see him slide away and Spider-Man take over. The kid dimmed in his eyes and he swallowed his last bite quickly.

It was time to get back to work.

He made his excuses, something vague about a bank robbery that might happen and then climbed over the railing. Catherine had to fight in instinct to pull him back. He hung by his fingers on the sheer drop as he peered up at her.

"Hey, can I come in your place sometime? Like to just see?"

"You'd eat all my food. Get out of here," she yelled back at him and shook the paper bag in his face. He smiled as he pulled the mask back on. The white eyes flickered open and closed a few times before they refocused on her. While Peter knew where she lived, she hadn't let him inside. There was no reason for him to see how empty it was.

He dropped off the railing and into the twilight.

She walked over and leaned against the railing, watching him swing away. It almost looked like he was flying.

Internally she was still laughing about Peter and MJ.

Poor guy.

* * *

_I had a hilarious typo in this chapter that made me laugh all day when I discovered it. It wasn't like Peter "looked like he was flying" in the first draft. Oh no. Peter "looked like he was flying flying."_

_Blame my exhausted brain._

_This last scene is one of my favorites. For the sequel, I wanted to allow myself one complete fluff scene. This was it. I feel like Peter and Catherine have come so far and this scene really shows that. It gives me the "warm fuzzies". _

_Enjoy that feeling. Next chapter is a doozy._

_What did you think?_

_Thank you for reading as always. -Quin_


	8. In Which Peter Needs To Slow Down

**In Which Peter Needs To Slow Down**

Catherine looked at Tony as security phoned his desk saying that Spider-Man was on his way up to their office. He was standing away from his phone, arms crossed as he played with a pen in his hands. His eyes were unfocused as he clicked the pen on and off. He didn't respond and soon the phone shut itself off.

She had tried to force herself to sit in one of the two guest chairs. It was uncomfortable, disgustingly like sitting knowing any second that the seat would break. So she stood near him by the desk.

"I can't believe that we have to do this," He muttered, "I need a drink."

"Do you have enough for two? Whiskey?" She pressed her fingers against the wood surface, allowing the sharp edge to prick into her skin.

He turned. "Yeah."

"Afterwards. We will drink after."

They looked at the door. The clock ticked loudly. He wasn't there yet. There was still an elevator ride up but knowing he was in the building was enough. She tapped on the desk, beating out a different rhythm.

"Stop that. It's a 19th century mahogany."

She continued. "If it's that old, it's gone through a lot more than my finger tapping on it."

"Stop it anyways." He snapped.

She pressed her hand into the table. "I think if we come at him with empathy, this is going to go a lot better."

He laughed, sharp and short. "Yeah. Sure. Empathy. What a cute word."

Catherine tightened her lips together. Nerves were in her stomach too.

"We need to get through to him before he does something even more stupid."

The door still didn't open. The elevator must have had a few stops. Part of her didn't want him to show up. Part of her wanted to go home and wish that none of this had ever happened.

But where was the fun in that?

"This was pretty stupid. Damn kid could have died."

She felt her stomach growl. It was past dinner. They should have thought this through a little bit better. Rain was running down the window.

"How's engagement party planning?"

"Terrible. Pepper's parents want it to be perfect and that means having their fingers in everything." Tony rubbed a hand through his hair. "Do you care if the cellist comes from the Philharmonic or the Symphony?"

There was a flash of blue and red at Tony's secretary's desk through the glass wall. Tony stopped his complaining immediately. Her breath caught in her throat and she straightened.

"Tony, Spider-Man is here for his appointment," Ashley paged through.

He pressed the intercom. "I'm busy. Tell him to take a seat."

Catherine hoped that the anger in his words didn't carry through. She saw Ashley tell Peter and he stepped back surprised and then took an awkward seat. He played with his fingers in his lap and his toe tapped against the floor.

"You are busy?" She asked.

"Look," Tony said, "if we ice him a little, things will go better."

Peter's head snapped back to his hands as she glanced at him. "There is a chance that we can fix this."

Ashley paged through again, her tone bored, "Mrs. Parker is on the phone again."

She saw Peter stiffen.

"Tell her that nothing has changed since the last hour."

She paused and then continued, "Sure."

The line disconnected with a cheerful beep.

Tony took a seat, moving his computer screen to the side, leaving an odd blank space. The pen in his hand went back in the jar. He pressed down the newspaper on his desk.

He glared at her. "Remember, this was your idea."

Catherine took one of the other chairs feeling stiff again. "This isn't even in my job description."

"Yes it is. 'Other Duties as Assigned'." He shot back and then opened his intercom. "We're ready."

Spider-Man sat in the chair for a moment longer, unwilling to come in, frozen in his spot.

He opened it up again. "We're growing old here."

That jerked him out of his seat. He walked quickly to the glass door and opened it. He didn't come in, instead he curled around it, using it like a shield, and poked his head in.

"You wanted to see me, sir?"

Catherine kept her face straight. This needed to go right. They needed to make some headway. Part of her had thought they had made some improvement last week but here he was. The disappointment was heavy on her shoulders.

"Five seconds ago, punk. Take a seat," Tony snapped. Catherine winced.

Peter walked in the room and carefully closed the door. He crept forward like he was sneaking in, the shoes making no noise on the wooden floor. Tony pressed a button and the glass walls darked. The rain still hit the window. He pointed to the only empt chair pulled up to the desk and Peter gingerly sat there on the edge, his heels lifted off the ground and his hands clasped.

"Take the mask off."

"But-" He turned in his chair to look back, looking at the black wall.

"It's a secure room. I know how much your privacy means to you." Tony leaned forward. "Or does it anymore since you so easily spilled the beans to your aunt?"

"Tony," she said but he didn't hear her. Easing him into this conversation might have been easier.

"That was an accident." Peter muttered to the floor and took off the mask. He looked haunted, like he had spent the whole day fighting ghosts.

He was pale in the office lights. There was a fresh bruise across his neck. Someone had gotten a rope around it for a second and pulled hard. The sight of it tightened the muscles in her back. It looked fresh. Strange for him.

Tony pressed. "That didn't answer my question _Mr. Parker._"

"Yes, privacy means something to me. Sir." The words came out quickly.

"Well, It doesn't matter anymore because here we are and I've got to slap your hand before your aunt goes crazy and moves you to Canada. She's about one more gunshot away from that. Do you want that kid?"

Peter swallowed. The corners of his eyes were going pink.

"Well?"

Catherine didn't interrupt. This had to happen. She knew it. Tony knew it. Maybe even Peter knew it. This went too far already.

"I-"

"No," Tony steamrolled over him, standing in the process towering over the kid, "Here is what I get to deal with now. You want to put yourself in danger. I get it. But now not only do I have to babysit you, I have to babysit your aunt. What do you think I do all day? I sit on my hands? Who do you think builds all this tech? Who built that suit?"

Something changed in Peter's face. It was close to frustration and confusion but edging onto anger. Something rare in the kid.

"I don't get it. I'm just doing my job like usual." He stumbled to his feet.

"You aren't. You are doing_ more than_ your job. What the hell is _this_?" Tony straightened from behind the desk and Peter's foot slipped back a little.

Tony took the folded newspaper off his desk and slid it across. A black and white photo of Spider-Man was swinging across above the fold. In big bold letters was the damning evidence, the reason that they were all in the room: _Spider-Man Takes Down An Armed Drug Cartel!_

Catherine nearly dropped her phone as she exited the subway this morning when she had found out herself.

"You don't deal with drug cartels kid. It's number seventy on the list of don't mess with, right under hurricanes and right before aliens."

Peter took the paper, studying it.

Tony continued. "It's out of your league. Catherine can't keep stitching you back together."

Peter looked at Catherine. He was silently asking her the question that she didn't want to answer.

"For once, I agree with him. You can be killed. We know that."

A muscle flexed in Peter's neck making the bruise roll.

He turned back to Tony. "I told you, just do my job."

Now she could hear the sharpness in Peter's voice. The paper dropped to the table. He wasn't backing down. This wasn't going well. Tony looked away, fiercely studying the abstract painting on the wall.

"No. You aren't. You don't deal with that kind of dangerous people. Scientific labs are cute. Drugs are not. Why the hell did you go there? Why didn't you call us?"

Peter threw up his hands. "You weren't doing anything about them!"

"This is not about me. Don't make this about me kid. This is about you."

"I'm not a kid."

She'd never seen Peter this angry before. He had pulled up to his full height and muscles were tight against the suit. This was something that she had only seen in highlight reels. This was fire that kept him going, that made him stand up to things that would drive sane people away.

Tony's fist pushed hard against his 19th century mahogany table.

Peter was picking the wrong target.

"Yes. You absolutely are a kid." Tony's breathing heightened.

"I'm Spider-Man." Peter pointed out Tony's window. "That's my city."

"You are a Friendly Neighborhood Spider-Man, emphasis on _no goddamn drug cartels_."

"That doesn't make any sense. It was in my neighborhood!"

They were rounding on each other. Tony made large strides around the table. She could see Peter shaking as he matched him. They stood toe to toe.

"It doesn't have to. You are in _high school_, freaking high school." Tony's voice cracked on the end of the sentence before he plowed forward. "You just learned about the pythagorean theorem, what, last week? Do you know how dangerous those people are?"

Now he was on the verge of yelling.

"I'm stronger than you think." Peter matched him.

"Who the hell is this kid?" Tony asked her, ignoring Peter.

He stepped between them. "I'm fifteen."

"And fifteen years too stupid to know what's best for him. You are going to get yourself killed and soon. What will your aunt think of that?" Tony snarled back.

That question hit Peter like a blow but he snapped back. "What about all those people I saved that night? They don't matter?"

Tony opened his mouth and she couldn't take it. They were on the verge of deciding words wouldn't be enough. She didn't want to know who would win.

"That's it." She pushed her way in between the two of them.

"Get yourself under control." She pushed Tony back and then rounded on Peter. "You need to slow down and-"

He interrupted her immediately. "I'm-"

God. He wasn't hearing her. She needed him to. She had to. There had been over thirty armed people at the site. How he stood in front of her, she didn't know. She couldn't have Peter die next time because of them.

She grasped the front of his suit. The fabric pulled tight. His hands came up but froze.

She shook him slightly as she spoke, "Peter Parker you need to listen to us."

"But-"

"No. Listen to me!" It shot out of her like a bullet. It echoed.

His eye went wide. "Yes, ma'am."

"We aren't asking you to stop being Spider-Man. We aren't asking you to change. We're asking you to play it safe." The fabric slipped away from her fingers as she pressed her palm against his pounding heart. "For your sake. For our sake. For Aunt May's sake. Don't you understand how many people care about you Peter?"

"I need…I want…" He paused. As she watched, something fell away in his eyes, collapsing and disappearing. The fight erased itself from his body and he shrunk, falling apart. He backed away from her grasp and she let him. His eyes fell to the floor. He seemed to remember who he was. The high school kid returned.

She backed herself away until she ran into the desk. Emotion bubbled over in her. She fought to keep them off her face but her vision wavered anyways. She couldn't loose the kid. She couldn't. It would break her. There would be no recovery. Even the thought of the dangerous place that he had put himself in made her sick to her stomach.

The chair squealed as Peter sat down in it.

"We need you to stop being so risky kid," Tony said quietly.

He nodded mutely as more to himself then to them.

"Go home and handle May."

Peter looked up. "Is she mad?"

"She's furious."

"This is so hard." His head fell into his hands with a hitched breath. "I'm ruining everything."

Damn. Catherine slipped off the desk. They may have pushed it too far. Tony turned away instantly, staring out the window.

She tried to think what to say. Nothing was right. The office was still as teen pulled himself back together with shaky breaths. He eventually looked up, his eyes red but the tears never appearing.

They were scattered across the room. Catherine stood near the desk and Tony stared out the window.

"I'm-" his words caught his mouth as his eyes jumped between the two of them. "I'm sorry for being such trouble, Mr. Stark."

"Just clean it up." It was a simple statement. If there was emotion in that voice, Tony had edited it out.

"We all make mistakes." She added and gave Peter back his mask. She tried to smile at him but it came out wrong, more like a grimace with all teeth. He wiped his face and nodded.

He stared at the mask in his hands for a minute and then pulled it back on. "I'll-I'll be better."

Part of her remembered when he had said that last week.

Tony didn't watch him go. Instead, he remained still as Peter lingered for a moment longer staring at Stark's back and quietly left the office.

Tony was frozen where he had stood as the door clicked shut. Catherine let out a sigh. In all the different ways that could go, angry Peter hadn't been put into her calculations. She watched him hurry past Ashley who didn't even look up and rushed into the elevator.

Then he was gone and the room was filled with the ticking clock again.

She walked across the office and popped open the cabinet. The alcoholic smell almost welcomed her as she poured them both drinks. The glasses were cold in her hands as she went over to the billionaire.

"I don't want kids if they turn out to be like that," He said as he took one from her. His hand was shaking. Wordlessly she clinked the drinks together. She didn't look at his face. The grown man deserved a little privacy.

They sipped their drinks and watched the rain fall down the glass. The silence of the room almost a relief.

"Is this on doctor's orders?" He asked after a few drinks.

"Shut up."

* * *

_I had to write this in one sitting. I texted my friend K right after I finished and I said: "__I'm so tense. I'm writing a scene where Tony, Catherine and Peter are all fighting and I need a goddamn hug."_

_I still need that hug._

_What do you think?_

_Thank you for reading as always - Quin_


	9. In Which A Double Take Occurs

**I****In Which A Double Take Occurs**

Catherine held her charcoal up to her paper and watched the end shake. Black dust dribbled from the point and then she pushed it down, smearing it and crumbling it against the tooth of the paper.

Her head pounded from the talk with Peter earlier.

She shouldn't have pushed him so far. They should have come up with a more substantial plan before bringing him in. She had grabbed him too. What had made her think that was a good idea? The look he had given her, the surprise and betrayal that had appeared. It withered her as it was thrown back in her face time and time again.

Her father would have called it a case of the "shoulda-woulda"s. Damn that man for knowing more than her.

She took a deep drink out of the soda can. It was a poor substitute for something much stronger. She was had to be sober sometimes. The apartment was dark beside the strong light on her still life. It was the final for her class.

It wasn't due for six more weeks.

The clock neared midnight. She needed to go to bed but sleeping didn't sound remotely possible and she hadn't eaten yet. Opening her fridge had done nothing. All that was in it was healthy stuff.

She took another look at her composition. It was a mug, a couple books and a plastic flower. It wasn't good enough. She reached over to the actual still life, adjusting the mug, moving it so the line of the handle curved the eye back towards the flower.

Better.

Maybe not good enough but better. Perfectionist, her mind lashed out at herself. She took another drink.

Her phone buzzed in her pocket.

She ignored it. She wasn't working.

The phone buzzed again.

She rolled her eyes.

It was Peter. No one else texted her. She didn't have friends and most old ones called on Saturday nights when they were drunk in LA.

_Hey. Can I ask a favor? I'm here._

She would have ignored the message had it not been for the second one, rapid fire after the first one.

_Please don't hate me._

She groaned and stared up at the ceiling.

_Coming_. She answered.

She didn't bother with the lights. She went into the bathroom and snatched the kit that she kept under the sink. He was probably bleeding on the roof, something larger than a few inches if he's coming to her. It was the only reason that he would be here now, after everything that had happened.

Or perhaps the fight hadn't been as bad for him as it had been for her.

They had just told him to take it easy. All the sore muscles in her back to tensed again. Here she was going to help him like the good nurse practitioner she was.

She shook her head as she grasped the keys on her kitchen counter and unlocked the front door.

The intercom panel by the entrance lit up and chirped out of the corner of her eye.

Odd. She closed her door.

She tapped it and it connected down to the concierge and security downstairs.

"Yes?"

"Hello Ms. Crow," Robert's voice sounded soft, "Sorry to bother you at this hour but I've got a kid here. He's insisting that you know him? He's off the street. Just say the word and I'll get rid of him."

What?

She almost let her response go too long but she caught herself with a rapid question. "Who is it?"

"What's your name again?" Robert asked half into the microphone. "Peter Parker?"

Peter never came through the front. He always on the roof. She sucked a breath through her teeth. This was different.

"Yeah, I'll come down. I know him. Thanks, Robert."

She almost followed that up with was he bleeding from the head but she stopped herself. Pulling a coat from the rack, she left quickly with her kit just inside the door.

What was he doing here? He should have been arguing with Aunt May or being Spider-Man at this hour. There was no reason for him to be here. Her shoes clicked against the tile. She caught a look at herself in the mirror and looked away. The bags under her eyes told too much of a story. The elevator opened up to the lobby.

Robert was standing on the other side of his desk, a physical barrier between Peter and the rest of the apartment.

Not that Peter looked like he was going anywhere. The kid stood like a scarecrow, all his limbs barely attached and loose against his body. Water had soaked through most of his clothes and a backpack was slung over his shoulder. His fingers interlaced through the strap, pulling it tight against his body. His hair was stuck across his face.

He met her eyes and he tried an awkward smile but it didn't work out for him so he went back to studying the floor. He took a step towards her and Robert put a hand on his shoulder.

"Not an inch closer buddy."

"It's okay, Robert," she walked towards the human puddle, "he's my Little."

The lie was so easy. It didn't even feel like one anymore.

For being strong enough to stop a bus, Peter was careful as he walked around Robert. While she had gotten used to him being on the roof, being in the building felt different. The kid had stepped into another world that she wasn't used to seeing him in. She kept checking to make sure she knew where she was.

"Hey Ms. Catherine, I was wondering…um…if I could talk to you in private?" Peter's eyes wouldn't meet didn't look to be anything physically wrong with him. The worry increased.

Robert gave her a look. This one said that he was willing to throw the unmasked Spider-Man onto the street in a second if she asked.

"Yeah, come over here." She turned towards the elevators and commented to Robert. "We're okay. Alright?"

Peter quickened his pace until they stood outside the steel doors to upstairs.

She crossed her arms and waited for him to start.

"Are you still mad at me?" He whispered and looked up at her.

Such a simple question broke down every preconceived idea she had about this conversation.

Her arms fell to her sides. "No Peter, I was never angry at you. I'm afraid for you. We both are."

He nodded emptily, avoiding her gaze. His voice was colored with pauses as he talked as if the words were hard to get out.

"Aunt May and I, we fought, we like really fought, and I'm a mess. I know I'm not supposed to and it's late and it's probably all wrong to ask but can I come up just for a little bit?"

Robert was watching from a distance. He was back behind the desk but studying them closely.

He took a breath and continued, "I can't go to Ned's. His mom doesn't know and…she'd be concerned and call May and I don't want her to worry anymore…I've got nowhere else to go."

He rubbed his face and lapsed into silence. A couple cars drove past. Rodger's keys clicked on his belt.

He studied his shoes again. They were converse as always. Water dripped off his hair and fell to the tile.

Shit. She took a shaky breath and her stomach twisted in on itself. She looked up at the ceiling towards her dark apartment trying to keep his emotions from overwhelming hers.

He was her patient and a superhero. She kept repeating to herself that she had a work life separation. She knew boundaries. She knew how to keep herself out of anymore trouble. Peter shivered in the air conditioning and worked his fingers up and down his backpack strap. What funny lies she liked to tell herself.

"Come on. I don't have any hot chocolate so don't get your expectations up."

"Thank you ma'am." A smile broke across his face before disappearing as she swiped her entry card and called the elevator. She waved a hand at security one more time as they got in.

The ride up was quiet. Peter wasn't trying to push his luck. Instead he was attempting to be small, not looking anywhere and tucking his limbs close. Yet, under all that, she could see a little buzz of excitement in him. He was finally getting what he wanted. He dripped on the tile and she looked at the puddle.

"Did you walk here?"

"No. You're a couple blocks from my subway stop and I didn't bring an umbrella."

"You didn't come the other way?" There was a camera in the elevator. Peter had spotted it as soon as he had walked in and turned himself slightly away from it.

The question caused him to squirm. "I didn't feel like it tonight."

It must have been quite the conversation with May.

They entered her hallway and it was even stranger to see Peter follow her. The door came up and she paused outside it. The inside was so different to his house. No family photos, no house plants, no warmth.

"I don't spend too much time here. I don't entertain. Nobody comes in here or anything," She said, popped the door open and snapped on the lights.

Catherine couldn't even consider it modern. It was just empty. Besides the bare minimum of furniture, there was nothing. The couch sat without side tables. The coffee table didn't have anything on it. Catherine had pan on her stove. That's as far as she had ever tried to go with decorating.

He took a couple steps into her living room and stopped unsure. His eyes wandered around. Peter shivered again. It was like someone cut and paste him into her apartment. The kid felt like he had an outline around him, stating that he didn't belong in here.

"It's a nice place you've got here, Ms. Catherine." Peter's eyes looked everywhere. He was being polite. The apartment was suffocating. The blank walls reminded her of a hospital.

"Yeah right." She tossed her keys on the counter, acutely aware of the dishes in her sink.

The apartment was quiet. Catherine and Peter stood in the entryway staring at the apartment, trying to avoid each others' gaze. She didn't know what to do. What was she supposed to say?

He shivered again.

"Do you have any dry clothes on you?" She asked automatically.

This was a mistake. Was she supposed to leave him alone? She didn't know how to comfort someone outside of telling them it was going to take six weeks for that fracture to heal. She tried to stand causally but ended up swaying back and forth.

He shrugged off the bag and looked inside.

He said emptily, "Oh. Everything is wet."

She sighed and headed to the bedroom. "Just stay there. I might have something that'll fit you."

She came back a minute later with a guy's shirt and sweatpants, rumpled from being in the back of her closet for months. They were probably a couple sizes too big and they still smelled like his cologne but she handed the clothes over.

"We'll toss everything in the dryer. Change into these."

He laughed weakly. "I didn't know you cross dressed."

A joke. Humor was something familiar.

"Peter, you know me better than that. Use that big brain of yours." She pushed him gently in the direction of the bathroom. "Towels are in the closet."

He slipped away and her eyes roamed her apartment. What the hell.

After some awkward maneuvering, they ended up in her kitchen. He sat at her high chair as she finished cooking her "emergency box of mac and cheese". Peter had been quiet as he sat crossed legged on the bar stool and rested his chin on his arms on the counter.

The bruise still hadn't healed on his neck.

It was uncomfortable. It was just her. No medicine. No topic. Nothing to do.

She turned her back to the stove. "So do you want to talk about it?"

His eyes came up to meet hers. "Not really."

"I can't imagine Aunt May kicking you out of the house."

He sat up and pulled out his phone. "She didn't. I…" His mouth switched and he spun the phone on her counter.

The dryer thumped in the background.

She thought about telling him that he really needed to work this out but he knew that already.

"Did you run away?"

"No."

"Okay." She made a note to text Aunt May later.

"Have you gone to see him?" Peter asked non sequentially. She raised an eyebrow.

"In prison, I mean." He pulled on the t-shirt he was wearing.

"No, I haven't and I doubt that I will." She pressed her lips together, stopping the words in her mind that wanted to come out. Andy had hurt her that night, more than anyone knew.

"He's kinda far away being upstate and all."

She didn't correct him.

The guy still haunted her and she knew that the regret was a tattoo in her mind now. It was only liable to fade, not disappear.

She poured them both a serving of food and chewed on a bite before responding. "I will say that it is funny to see you in his clothes."

Andy's clothes hadn't fit right, they were too big but Peter had pulled the drawstring tight and it was good enough. It was like some part of Andy had reentered her life. She hadn't had the heart to put the clothes in the Goodwill pile, so instead they had stayed.

He nodded and worked on his bowl in silence. The was a dab of pasta left in the pot. It was earmarked for Peter. The fake cheese was sickening but it brought her back to what felt like a better time in her life and something very far away.

"This was my dad's fix-all." She felt herself smile and turned around to the pot to refill his bowl. "He always said that mac and cheese could fix anything. My brothers and I never disagreed."

"Brothers?"

She winced at her slip up. "They're all on the west coast, Oregon and Washington State. Before you ask, my mom is Northern Cali but we're not close. Not any of us."

The pot felt cold in her hand as she carried it over to him. She felt herself tense as he easily went for the next question, the logical one, the one that she hated answering.

"Where does your dad live?"

She concentrated on dumping the mac and cheese in his bowl. "In the ground near LA."

His cheeks went red. "Oh. I'm sorry."

"It's not your fault, silly." She tapped him on the shoulder and went back to the sink. "You apologize too much."

"Sorry."

She rolled her eyes covering her own emotions. She swallowed but the knot wouldn't go water rushed into the pan and she ran her hands through it. The shock of the cold helping her stay in reality.

She left the pan there, turning back to the fifteen year old at her counter remembering to stand stall and look comfortable. It didn't matter. He was gone again, his eyes staring at her fridge without any focus. The spoon in his fingers slid into the bowl slowly. She leaned against the counter, watching it descend into cheese sauce.

The dryer beeped in the distance.

"You better get home soon." She checked her watch. "It's almost one."

He snapped back to focus. "Oh. About that. Can I sleep on your couch tonight? I'll have to wake up early to go to school anyways."

"First my food, then my dryer and now my couch?" She asked in a mock anger. "I knew I should have never let you in."

"It's complicated." He squirmed. "It's only for the night and-"

She waved a hand. "I think you would rather sleep on the futon in the guest bedroom."

His eyes went wide."It's okay then?"

"Yeah. Just don't try to sneak out. The security might try to arrest you for theft."

She should send him home but she had needed space when she was his age. This wasn't the street nor was he trying to find more trouble to get himself into. He was at her apartment, safe and sound. She would let Aunt May know as well, putting her mind at ease as well.

"I can clean your floors or your ceiling fans or the tops of your bookcases. I'm good at getting to high places."

She pulled out her phone. "I've got a roomba for the part of that I care about. Just put your dishes in the dishwasher."

Her fingers hovered over the last distressed text conversation that she'd had with Aunt May. She shot her a message, a simple one that said that Peter was fine and that he was sleeping over with her.

"She said the same thing that you did," Peter said quietly. His eyes trained on her screen glassy and unfocused, "but Ms. Catherine, I'm trying but every time I go out there, I get excited, I want her to be proud and I don't pick the crimes, the criminals do. I just respond now. I keep going out there to make her proud…I…I can't think much anymore…"

He caught up with his train of thought and looked away. "May is going out of town tonight for a week for work. She's couldn't wait any longer and…and…she's really worried."

His hand curled into a fist.

"I can handle myself." Catherine wondered who he was convincing but he pressed on. "She said that if I can't do it safety, I shouldn't do it at all. It just comes over me. I want to be Spider-Man. She said it's too much. She doesn't look at me the same anymore. I don't know what I'll do. Every time I try to talk to her, I just make it so much worse."

Catherine leaned against the counter. His words were getting softer and softer in his throat. His eyes searched wildly.

"I need to be Spider-Man. New York needs me to be Spider-Man. I don't know who I am without him." He shook his head. His lip was up and he refused to look at her. Guilt twisted in her stomach. Catherine moved around the island, leaving her phone behind and pulled up the other chair. He shifted in his seat but didn't meet her eyes.

"The house is so quiet now." He went to studying the tops of hands and then his palms. Little scars ran across the surface of his skin. His hands were shaking.

"Peter?"

He didn't look at her.

_"Peter."_

Something was threatening to burst in him. His chest rose and fell quickly. Her hand covered his so he had nothing to stare at. He was quivering and she squeeze them, trying to get it to stop.

"It's _okay_."

"But Mr. Stark turned away when I…maybe he's right…maybe I should…I don't know…give up?" He brushed his nose.

She made a face, reached over and gave him a napkin. "Tony is a grouchy old man that knows almost nothing about emotions."

She could see the billionaire drinking alone in the dark, haunted by demons that she was sure were never going to go away.

Peter squinted at her and the movement made the tears run over onto his cheeks. "Isn't Mr. Stark in his 40s?"

"Crotchety and peevish old grandpa who wants everybody off his lawn." She pulled her chair a little closer and wrapped her arm around his shoulder.

He giggled but the sound hitched and changed as the tears started to fall quickly. She pulled him into a hug as the poor kid let it out. She closed her eyes and waited in the remaining silence of the apartment.

She put him down for sleep by two.

She checked that he was truly asleep at three.

She laid in her bed much later than that, trying to work mess out in her head.

* * *

_A 3k+ chapter? Am I alright? Clearly I am not. Nor is anyone in this story at this point. _

_"Crotchety and peevish old grandpa" is possibly my second favorite description of Tony._

_I really want to give that kid a hug. What do you think?_

_Thank you for reading as always. - Quin_


	10. In Which Spider-Man Is In Time Out

**In Which Spider-Man Is In Time Out**

Peter looked doubtful as he came across Stark Industries' Lobby.

It took some strength to keep the smile off of her face as she waited for him. It was the afternoon after he had slept over and she had insisted that him come by after school. He looked like he had been roughed up and all his allowance stolen. Little things were off. His shoe was untied. His shirt hung half tucked in. Just like her, he looked like he hadn't slept.

The kid needed a break.

That was what she decided last night.

"Come on Peter." She waved him over as she called the elevator up. The usual enthusiasm was missing as he took his place by her side. He looked edgy, teen angst fully taking over. The feeling was a black hole, trying to suck her in as well.

"I thought that I was all caught up on my shots." He asked quietly as they entered the elevator.

She smiled then giving up. That had been her ruse to get him to come.

"You are in need of one more. Distraction."

He crumpled his face. "Distraction?"

The tone was close to mistrust. She ignored it. On this one, she was sure that she was right.

"I've arranged it." She nodded. "It's my prescription."

"What am I doing here?"

Now that was the question that she wanted him to ask. "I've got a key to Tony's lab and his permission for you to play with his toys all afternoon."

It hadn't taken much to twist Tony's arm. A simple and censored description of last night with a glare made him give in. He had said yes quickly and with barely any sarcasm. Catherine didn't say anything in reason. She didn't want to jinx it.

"What?" Peter's face broke out in excitement. There it was. There was the Peter that she knew. Straightening, he leaned closer to her. The funk was gone. He caught himself. "I thought he was mad at me?"

"No. A little grumpy and disturbed but that's normal." She paused and then she started to tease him. "Actually maybe I should just send you home. You don't seem excited about this."

The elevator arrived. The doors opened to a lobby with several branching hallways. It was a clinical floor, steel walls with signs going this way and that.

"Nononono…I'm good with this." He said and got out waving his hands.

She hung back and shrugged. "I don't know. My mind might be made up."

He looked worried for a moment before he saw through it. The smile doubled.

"Come on." He jogged down the hall without her and she stayed on the landing watching him. He almost had a skip in his step. Like an eager kid, he was miles ahead.

"Peter?"

He turned. "Yeah?"

She pointed down the hallway to her left. "It's this way."

They talked about the inventions that he was thinking of as she navigated them through the various labs. Peter was already dreaming up various ways to improve his suit. She shrugged and nodded as if "a dampened semi-compensator" meant something to her.

She waved her badge at the lab. "He's left you all his supplies. FRIDAY will watch over you to make sure that you don't do anything too ambitious."

The door opened to what should have been a perfect reenactment of Peter opening presents on Christmas Day. Peter was still instead, the happiness wiped away, replaced with something very close to fear. That was not what she was going for.

The lab was full of machines and robots scattered around in clumps. One wall was covered in Iron Man suits, standing still in glass cases. The opposite wall was a bank of computers, wires coming off and snaking to the various work tables in the middle of the room. Holograms hovered over the surfaces, abandoned and misplaced files everywhere.

It was supposed to be empty.

It was supposed to be ready for Peter to play away the hours.

It wasn't.

Tony had such a habit of ruining all her plans.

The man was sitting on a table in the lab clearly working on some new webshooter cuffs. The exact opposite of what he was supposed to be doing. He had the equipment in one hand, a screwdriver in his mouth and soldering iron in the other. The smell of burning metal filled the air.

He looked up casually and without any reservation to her anger or his fear started talking, "Hey kid. Spider-Man needs a new spinneret. The web density is going to be off in the winter and tensile strength could be amped."

Peter was completely astounded.

Tony continued to yammer. "I could completely do it myself but I thought we could do some testing. What do you say?"

The silence between the three of them stretched thin.

"Mr. Stark…?" It came out of Peter in a waiver finally.

Tony rolled his eyes, pushed off the table and came over.

"Hey, you know, I can just go." Peter started the strange shuffle backwards but the door was already closed behind him. "I've got a homework quiz due tomorrow night and Mr. Roberts is threatening to be really mean on the Spanish midterm next week and-"

Tony put out his hand. Peter's chatter stopped. He stared at it like a rat. Catherine raised her eyebrow. This was the way that Tony was going to solve this?

"Okay, let's try that again." Tony withdrew and then offered the handshake again. "You shake it."

Some part of her barely kept the laughter away at how he was failing spectacularly.

He took the handshake. It wasn't a big shake but an awkward smile came over his face as he looked up.

"So how about that spinneret?"

"Yeah. Let's do that."

Catherine came back to get him a couple hours later in the evening. The music was roaring, a hard metal sound shook the walls outside the closed lab. Tony had turned the glass walls black, probably so Peter could try the new webshooters in peace.

The door let her in.

It was still the mess that she had seen when she had gotten her arm trapped in the Iron Man suit, Catherine realized annoyed.

In the center of the mess were Tony and Peter. They were working on a hologram of a blown up web, the string brought down into its component parts. The billionaire was chomping on nuts as he braided and rebraided the main section of web as he stood next to the table. If these were two normal people, they would be standing next to each other.

Instead, they were not normal. Peter stood on the table, half dancing to the beat, half working as he coiled another smaller strand around the larger one digitally.

As they were worked, a scientific and almost indistinguishable blabber spewed between the two of them. All the stress was off their faces in the blue light. A goofy smile was on Peter as he designed and redesigned his portion. Tony's face was verging on irritability but the looseness in his shoulder told her otherwise.

"Naw kid, it'll be stronger if you line it up more with the y-axis." He snapped through his snack. "Don't they teach you anything in school?"

"Oh man! You're right." Peter unspun his part with a twist of his wrist.

Catherine leaned against the wall, watching the pleasant sight. Yes, this is what she hoped for. Spider-Man was gone for a moment. The kid wasn't listening for sirens on her roof. He wasn't sitting at a desk stressing out about his aunt. Getting Tony to loosen up was a lovely little side effect.

"I assume it's because of you that Tony has missed all of his meetings today." Pepper's voice was behind her. Catherine twisted to see the to-be Mrs. Stark holding an ice tea out to her as she came through the door.

"That was all on him." She took the drink.

Pepper smiled sweetly as she took up a spot next to her. "You know Tony. He can't help it."

"Things have been stressful. It's good for both of them."

"Hmmm." Pepper's face grew more serious. "Just so you know, the lab that Peter broke into? The Intervention of Ecology? They've has been trying to contact with you for the past week. We don't know what they want."

Peter's strained face in her mind caused the glass to dip in her hands. The tea's tang stung the back of her throat.

"That's not good."

"It's handled but I thought you might know."

Now Tony was on the table too. He shook his head and pushed the teen aside as he rewound the strand fully. Their heads almost brushed the ceiling. Peter crouched under it as he watched the man work, mouth half open.

"Did they say what Peter came down with?"

Pepper shook her head, leaning the glass against her lip. "They didn't seem to know anything about that."

"Good."

The hologram string shrunk to normal size and FRIDAY congratulated them on creating the most durable web yet. Peter backflipped off the table.

"Thanks for the drink." Catherine pushed off the wall. "Come on Peter. We've got to go."

"I did you see?" He pointed at the line. "I can carry like twenty elephants with that."

"That's nice now let's go. You're going to make me late."

The final step of the distraction plan was maybe the easiest but hardest part. She had added it only because she knew that Peter had interest in her art. Now she was doubting it.

Peter sat awkwardly on the stool, looking completely confused at the sketchbook, still life in front of him and the charcoal in his hands. The best part was the kitchen apron that he had put on because he didn't bring art clothes.

"Everyone here is an expert. How do I draw with this thing again?" He asked as he looked at the stick to the white paper in front of him. Just a half an hour ago, he was talking in equations that she would never understand. Now he was looked like he was trying to solve the world's problems.

She didn't have a chance to respond.

"Catherine." The instructor swept over and both of their heads turned. Something close to nerves stirred in her stomach. She smiled warmly at the kid. "You must be Peter, Catherine's Little. I'm so glad that you could come today. I've heard so much about you."

"You have?" Peter was surprised and then he twisted to her. Catherine's smile was gone. The instructor didn't miss a step.

Her hand rested against his sketchbook paper and her smile widened. "Don't worry. I don't know any dark secrets."

Catherine wanted to quietly strangle her. It had only been a few occasions when she had said something. Two of those times were because Peter had limped into her life and she had been late for class. The instructor had the memory of an elephant.

"She's exaggerating," Catherine said. By Peter's remaining smile, he clearly didn't believe her.

"A little afraid of the blank page, are we?" Sometimes the instructor was so friendly that Catherine wondered what the hell happened to her head. "We're working on this still life today but why don't you pick one element, maybe the teddy bear? Catherine can get you started."

Then she was gone, disappearing in a way that only teachers could.

Peter eyed the bear like it might kill him.

Catherine pulled her chair a bit closer. "Okay. Look for big shapes first. Teddy here is made up of circles. Can I?" Her hand hovered over his. He nodded and she gently placed her hand with his and they drew a circle on the paper.

"Agh." Peter pulled back as charcoal dust ran down the paper. "I broke it."

"You didn't. It's just messy. See? Now you have a teddy bear head."

"Do you really talk about me?" He whispered.

She took a firm look at the bear and used his hand to add two sweeps for ears. "I'd never break patient confidentially if you are worried about that."

"But do you-"

Before she could answer, Doofus not only sat down in his chair next to her but leaned over and bowled over their conversation.

"Hey, hey, hey, who is this?"

"This is Peter, he's tagging along with me today." She gritted her teeth and her hand fell away from his. All privacy was gone, smashed by Doofus and his big nose. She put herself between the two of them. He leaned even more forward, all muscle and interest.

"Oh really? Tell me everything."

And so it went for the rest of the class, Doofus learning everything that he could about Peter and Catherine sitting in the middle, trying to ignore how this had turned into a Social Hour and not art class.

By some strange miracle, Peter seemed to enjoy himself. The teddy bear didn't even look half bad by the time the class was over.

They got milkshakes to end off the day and Peter waved as he headed off home. He didn't even hear the ambulance that disappeared off in the distance.

Catherine took a drink and smiled to herself. Mission accomplished.

* * *

_One last piece of lightness. Tony will never do what Catherine asks. This should be known by this point._

_Thank you for all the support over the last month or so. I really do appreciate every notification, favorite or comment. It means a lot to me. Thank you for that. I hope you enjoy the little twist next week. :)_

_Any guesses? _

_Thank you for reading as always. - Quin_


	11. In Which Things Get Sober

**In Which Things Get Sober**

Catherine knew the guy was following her down the street.

It only took one glance behind her to verify that it was true.

He was laughing with a friend, sharing the cigarette. His white hand flashed in the night as he took a drag of it. They were mid twenties, young enough to be dumb, strong enough to be dangerous. Maybe they were on their way to slip into a late night bar.

They didn't.

The city was dark. Her pace picked up. She had tried to got to Stark staff afterparty to lighten up a little or some bullshit like that. It hadn't worked. She had made through the door. Then she saw the people and turned around immediately.

Her subway station was four blocks away. All the shops were closed now.

She shook her head as she realized that her fingers had drifted to either side of her watch. She pulled them back.

She didn't need it. The watch was equipped with an alarm system. After Andy, if the people behind him ever went after her again, she could push the two buttons and Tony's phone and FRIDAY would be notified exactly where she was.

She wasn't in danger right now.

The men laughed at a joke behind her.

Once she was at the station there would be cameras.

She walked for a few blocks. They hovered after her. Their voices scraped against her. She walked a little faster. They matched it.

Something rose in her throat. She didn't need this right now. After everything with Peter, she needed a little break. The kid was more relaxed but it was at a personal cost. Now he was always on her mind and his text earlier in the day that he still had to make up with May bothered her.

The party was supposed to fix that problem. It didn't.

"You alright ma'am?"

She nearly jumped into traffic.

Spider-Man sat on a sign up ahead, casual in his suit with his legs swinging. The white eyes weren't fixed on her.

"I'm fine." She pulled her jacket closer and walked under the sign. "Just heading home. Go to bed. It's late."

"Yeah…it's actually a little early for that." He slipped off, dropping down next to her. She stopped. He turned to face the guys behind her. "Hey fellas!"

"Hey Spider-Man," One of them shouted back and gave a half-hearted wave. The one that had looked at her stayed quiet.

"My doctor told me that going to bed early is good for your health. Go to bed," He yelled and then turned back to Catherine. She gave a chuckle hoping the New York signs covered it.

"I've got a lot on my mind. Can I walk with you?"

Catherine didn't respond. She wasn't taking pity tonight but she couldn't she refuse the help. Instead she turned back towards the station and started back down the street.

"Cool, cool." Spider-Man tagged next to her side. "So I still didn't thank you."

"I believe that you've thanked me four times in two days." She looked over her shoulder. The men were gone and she couldn't help the little smile that was on her face.

He saluted at a group of students across the street but his attention was still firmly on her. "Oh maybe but thanks again."

"What neighborly things have you been up to?"

"Oh you know, the usual." He drawled vaguely.

"Hmmm."

She studied him for a second. "When did you get a suit upgrade? It looks different on you." The suit was darker in the dim light.

"Yeah," he pulled on the fabric, "this one is stealthier."

"Stealthier?"

His eyes snapped into focus on her. "Something is different about you too."

"I'm still the same person." She almost put a 'Peter' on the end of her sentence but even in the emptiness of the street she didn't feel it was safe enough.

"Did you get a haircut?"

"No."

She felt her pace pick up again.

"New contacts?"

He matched it.

"How would you be able to see that?"

"I dunno."

"Are you done invading my privacy?"

"No, no, no…" He looked a bit closer and the computer buzz in his ear. "Wait. You're wearing makeup?"

"Congratulations, you cracked the code." She felt her cheeks rush a little red. "Don't think I didn't notice that you used your suit to figure that out."

It was just a little makeup. Something that made her look like she didn't work a 50-60 hour work week. She didn't bother when she was at Stark's. Something about the possibility of blood, jet fuel and other fluids phewing in her face stopped that urge. Call it practical.

"It looks nice?"

"Is that a statement or a question?"

"A statement. You look nice."

"Thanks."

"I'm been thinking about MJ." He reached out and idly swung around a street pole as if the ground wasn't entertaining enough. She left him behind as he did another rotation.

The streets were quiet so that he could say it without much concern. The fear melted in her back. She hated that Peter had to be here to have that go away.

"I've been thinking that if I phrase it right, she'll come to the party." He jogged up to join her. "You know? No snob needed. It'll be alright."

Catherine squinted at him. There was confidence…about MJ?

"And how will you do that?"

He paused as they entered into the subway station. A few people looked up as they entered and only one stared for a moment longer. Peter looked like a kid all dressed up enthusiastically heading home. What did that make her? His mom? A concerned older friend?

The subway cars pulled up. They walked down to an empty one. The heat inside the cab pricked the back of her neck. The cheery voice told them to stand clear of the closing doors and then they pulled away into darkness.

"I think if I say I have a ticket and that I want her to go as a friend…" There he was, the Peter that thought too hard for a moment, then it disappeared under Spider-Man. "It'll work out? As long as it isn't a date. You know. It'll be great."

"Don't you think that Ned will be jealous?" She smiled.

"Oh no. He's on board as long as I get Tony to sign his Iron Man poster someday. He's good that way." He popped a foot on his knee and sprawled across the plastic seat.

"Right…"

The trip was easy and simple as they got to her apartment. MJ fell off the table for a math test he was worried about which was replaced by some thieves that were making a habit of leaving small empty boxes gift wrapped at their marks.

The mindless chatter continued out of the subway and the few blocks to her apartment. As they came up to her block, he paused at the edge.

"I can't go much further Miss. We shouldn't be seen in the same places."

She paused and nodded. "That makes sense."

The city had quieted around them.

"I wanted to say I think Ed might be into you from your art class. You should go on a date."

It took her a second to remember that was Doofus' real name.

"Well, you don't have to worry about that."

The mechanical eyes went wide and he leaned forward. "Really? Were you on that date? How did it go?"

"No but he asked me after our next class together." She laughed at herself and at the night.

"What did you say?"

A couple walked by. They looked at Peter several times, trying to figure out if he was the real one. Since they didn't stop, they must have decided against it.

"I told him he was a nice guy but no."

"That's harsh."

"He's a grown man and I did thank him for the offer."

"But still."

"Look, you've got to learn this. If I had given him some nicety he would have hung on for months and I'm in no place for stalking. It's like an amputation. Do it and get it over with."

"Oh." It was empty sound. "If MJ says no to the party, does that mean…?"

"Just ask her, kid." She pulled her keys out. "I can go the rest of the way. Have a good night Spider-Man."

"Right! Have a good night random citizen." She heard the web hiss through the air and off he went into the night.

Something pulled at her stomach so she shouted after him. "Don't get in trouble."

"I will!" was the faint response.

The keys jangled in her hand as she went back to the apartment. He slipped into the night, blending into the semi-darkness.

It was a few days later when shit hit the fan.

The TV buzzed in the background as Catherine finished her second glass of wine. The day had been long. Tony had been even more stressed out about the engagement than usual and being the stellar employer he was, he got it all over everyone. She closed her eyes against that stress. Nobody needed anything like that.

The TV show was trash. It was one of those realty shows that everyone loved to hate. She saw the pattern in the episodes, the way the characters did the same thing over and over again not realizing the real problem. She tuned it out constantly and missed nothing.

A thunk woke her up out of her almost meditation. It sounded as if a bird had hit her window but it was almost 11 at night. Her eye slid over to her closed windows. Was she going to bother looking? Another thud followed by rapid knocking got her moving across her living room.

The blinds opened to show a Spider-Man clinging wildly outside her window. His toes stuck to her window and one hand grasped his side, the other pressing against the glass smudging more bloody hand prints against it.

"What?" She asked in shock at the sight, glass still in her hand.

Spider-Man shouldn't be outside her window. Peter shouldn't be here either. They were supposed to be at home behaving themselves.

The knocking shook her out of it. She ripped the latch open and the kid rolled onto the floor with a cry. He ripped the mask off immediately. Smudges of blood drew down his cheek. He gasped.

"What happened Peter?" She wished she had turned on the lights in her apartment. The kid was dark against the ground.

"It hurts so much."

No time for emotions, she knew that.

"Where does it hurt?"

His hands told her. One held onto his stomach and the other his side. Two wounds. Maybe an inch or two long each. The puncture wounds were deep by the amount of bleeding. Peter had been stabbed twice.

She grasped one of the two couch pillows she owned and pressed it hard into his stomach. "Hold this."

"They were stealing. I had to stop them right?" There were tears in his eyes as he stumbled over his own words. "The knives. I don't know where they came from. Then I dunno then they were gone but I was bleeding everywhere. I didn't know what to do."

"You did the right thing."

He nodded. His fingers dug into the pillow.

It could have been a trap from the drug cartel a remote part of her mused. Ignoring that unhelpful piece of information, she stretched him out on the floor. She scrambled up. Her shoes slipped against the wood. It was slick.

The kitchen held some rags and then she got her first aid kit.

She needed to get him to Stark Industries or the hospital. She swallowed and brought the kit back. She needed to get him stable enough to move. Then there was the problem of the people around her, the neighbors, Robert, everyone with brains and eyes. Enough Peter and Spider-Man intermixing and people would put it together.

Not a priority.

"Aunt May is going to kill me." He hadn't moved. A couple tears were carving through the blood on his face. The healing must be doing little to nothing. Strange.

"We've got to get you to the hospital." She pressed on the spider symbol on his chest. The suit didn't release.

He shook his head. "No hospitals, please."

"No arguments. This is pretty bad Peter. The wounds are deep. Your organs have probably been pierced. Remember when you joked with me about internal bleeding? Kid, you've got it." She pressed her hands into the pillow, trying to keep him together. The suit button wasn't working. If the suit was malfunctioning, she would have to try to use a scissors and try to cut it. Would scissors even cut such a tough fabric? Her kitchen shears maybe?

The voice was different as it stopped her thoughts, almost as cold as steel.

"Promise me no hospitals. I can't go there. I can't be in there again."

Catherine looked at Peter sharply.

He was still, now focused completely on her. Fear was gone in his face. Instead something close to strength was in his eyes. It was so powerful that Catherine rolled back on her heels. Her hands withdrew and rested on her knees.

This was not the kid she knew.

"What are you talking about?" The words were careful. "What's going on?"

As if there wasn't a life threatening wound in his stomach, he started to sit up. "I thought you would help me."

Now the anger rose in her chest. "Is this a joke? Are you kidding me? I am trying to help you."

"It isn't. You can't take me there." He grasped one her slick hands in his. She didn't pull away. "Things have been a bit better lately even though Aunt May isn't on board. I'm feeling so much better with it. Please, I can't risk it."

"Risk what?" She heard herself ask the question but she was frozen.

The anger collapsed in her chest. There was something wrong, worse than a gaping hole in the stomach. It was in his eyes. A longing, a look that was a distant fixation on something that only he could see. Peter was looking past her, through her eyes, through her skull, to whatever he wanted that he didn't have.

His fingers clasped hers tighter and then released.

"I trust you Ms. Catherine. So let me show you. Then you'll understand, you know?" A half smile was on his face, one side pulled up like she had caught him with his hand in the cookie jar. The Peter she knew almost came back to the surface.

Her mouth was dry.

"Don't freak, okay?"

She didn't know what she was seeing. The ripple was almost imperceptible at first against the blackness of the new suit. It turned into a growth, a muscle that flexed and overlaid the skinny kid's arms and body. She saw the dark seep into the wounds, stopping them as well as her bandages would.

Then it came over his face like a wave. She would have thought he had put back on the mask had the mask not been behind Peter, bloody and alone on the ground. Then the shapes of the eyes were wrong, pulled back further, the edges a ragged white.

A mouth cut open. Raw teeth clicked against each other as it spoke.

"See?" It said, "We are one. We help each other. We are Venom."

* * *

_Well. The true game is finally afoot._

_You've probably got some questions. I'll answer some of them next week. Some of them will be answered in other, more bloody, ways. _

_Here is my question for you: What do you think? Did you see Venom coming? _

_Thank you for all the favorites and love lately. It really helps me. _

_Thank you for reading as always. - Quin_


	12. In Which We Have An Unexpected Guest

**In Which We Have an Unexpected Guest**

Catherine always imagined her patience as a scalpel.

Modern scalpels looked like box cutters so she liked to imagine the classic 440c stainless steel scalpel. The one you see in movies.

That piece of metal was one solid cast. It was silver, thin, strong, and in the right hands, could be used effectively. Her patience was that tool. She could use to help the people. Sometimes Tony Stark would do his best to bend it but a scalpel barely changed under pressure. It felt cold to the touch and solid in the palm.

It had a job.

Catherine's heart pounded in her chest. Adrenaline ran high in her from Peter rolling in on her living room floor. Her body shook. The edges of the room spun.

Catherine wouldn't have called it shock. It was too far gone for that. She was spinning in space, untethered. Frustration and anger ran through her The black thing rose to its feet in her living room almost brushing the ceiling. Lights shimmered off its skin and the jaw moved, the teeth grinding as it watched her.

Her scalpel bent in her mind. She had been trying so hard to keep everything under control. This was the result?

There was nothing like it. Wearily her mind could identify parts, a pectoral or an anterior tibial muscle flaring under the skin. A white spider was tattooed across its chest in a strange parody. Veins were close to the surface, rolling with white blood inside.

Finger joints crackled as it flexed under her unhinged stare.

Then she remembered that Peter was in that thing. That thought yanked against her, snagging and grounding her.

"Well?" The thing, Venom, growled, "I hider the child's healing, we need outside assistance. I can stop the damage but not repair it yet."

After everything, after the fights, the stress, the sleepless nights, and the pool of blood at her feet now, she felt that scalpel snap.

Three things occurred in quick succession. Catherine pressed the panic button on her watch. She rose to her feet from the crouch and with all her strength, she socked the monster in the face with every ounce of her anger.

The impact almost drove her back and her hand flashed with pain and went numb. She didn't have a moment to think logically. Catherine didn't expect it to work but it happened before she had a chance to think it through. Venom stumbled, not ready for the blow. Then it slipped on the blood on the floor and fell hard against the wood paneling.

"Get the hell out of Peter," she heard herself yell.

This kid had gone through enough. This was utter bullshit.

It didn't say anything. The fall had stunned it. A long tongue curled uselessly outside its mouth.

Her phone was ringing across the room. Probably Tony or FRIDAY responding to her call.

Her brain was moving quick now. She had to extract him.

The thing wasn't going to be down for long. Catherine went to her kitchen. All her joints felt uncoordinated. Catherine slammed against her counter, going too fast for her own good. She grasped the decorative pan that she never used on her stove and pulled the largest knife from her block.

If she was right, Peter was in the main chest cavity. If physics were still true.

The phone started ringing again.

"Just get here Tony," she shouted as she knelt down next to the giant body. "I'm out of my league."

That didn't stop the ringing but it made her feel better.

She put the knife aside and took the pan in both hands. She could do this.

She slammed the saute pan hard against the thing's gruesome face trying to hit what might be a temple. Even if she hit Peter, which she wasn't really thinking about, it wouldn't kill him. The steel smacked down and the head rolled, eyes still torn slits. The pan jumped out of her hand and clattered to the floor. Her fingers stung.

It was truly out for the count now.

The phone finally died.

"Okay. Okay. Okay." She muttered as she took up the steel shook wildly. She took deep breaths, calming herself down. Do the next thing. She could panic later.

Venom was huge, impossibly as large as her old dining room table and even unconscious the danger leaked off of it. Peter could be be suffocating inside. The hilt of the knife was slippery in her hand and she hovered over the thing's chest. The edge moved to the side for a parallel cut. Then it moved again, back to the original spot.

This was nuts.

Catherine rubbed her face with her arm. A claw twitched reflexively. She needed to guess the depth into the cavity and then what? Rip Peter out? She was a nurse practitioner not a surgeon. There was no general anesthesia, no clamps, no retractors. She was holding a kitchen knife for god's sake.

It was too late. Glossy eyes snapped open. Its arm moved and clamped around her throat in one slick motion. The knife fell from her hand as her toes left the ground.

"Betrayal by kitchen utensils," It hissed, drool coming down the sharp chin. "I told you that humans are not to be trusted."

She clutched the arm as her apartment lowered around her. Her mouth moved to form words but nothing came out. Her throat was crushed in the grip. Her feet kicked out towards Venom but she couldn't reach. She wanted to be brave and hang resolutely but it wasn't coming out now. All that was left was the hand around her throat and the air caught in her lungs. She choked and struggled.

"I saw no fear." It muttered to itself as it peered closer. The breath was icy cold against her face. She dug her nails into the damp flesh.

"Peter-" She sputtered and then the fingers tightened even harder. Black spots dotted the corners of her vision.

"Shhhhhh…" Venom's teeth clicked only inches away from her. "I'm trying to convince the child to let me eat you. Exclaiming is not helpful."

Catherine flexed her neck as much as she could and spat out._ "Peter!"_

Her spine creaked and stretched. Her hips swung making the pain even sharper.

The aggression twisted on Venom's face, changing to a softer anger. Her eyes dipped. The arm slipped from her blurred. A sigh of disappointment came from the monster. Another hand gripped her shirt before letting her neck go. Cold air jolted down her system. She curled forward around the claws, needing to hold onto something, and almost coughed up her dinner.

"The child says you will still help."

She looked up it. Her eyes were smarting and tears ran down her cheeks. After all of this? She was supposed to help this monster?

It lowered her slowly until her toes touched the ground again. Her feet flattened the ground but she wasn't able to stand. Her head was still spinning as she clutched the only solid thing in her grasp.

The fingers were still held tight to her shirt. In several places, they had busted through and she could feel the digits drag moisture against her collarbone. Her heart was right there. One stray movement and she was sure it could puncture the organ.

Venom was relaxed, teeth lost in its mouth as it studied at her. Air moved roughly through her throat as she leaned against her support. Without it, she may have fallen over.

"Well? Will you help?" It asked slowly and deliberately.

She stared blankly at the symbol on its chest. Peter was in there somewhere. He wasn't lost. This thing would have killed her already if that was the case.

"I'll help him." The words felt raw and she tasted blood.

The fingers loosened but did not let go. "You will help _us_."

"I will-"

The window shattered and a beam of light sliced neatly through the arm holding her. They fell together with a wet slap to the ground. She gasped as the weight of the hand hit her straight on.

Iron Man flew in. The jets immediately burning into the floor.

"I didn't know you were practicing this sort of medicine doctor," Tony said as he warmed up for another shot. Venom screamed and was rounding on the new opponent. The arm was growing back, the mass liquefying up the stump.

"Tony, don't shoot to kill. Peter is in there." Catherine used the last of the air in her lungs compressing her diaphragm completely. The room spun again.

The Iron Man mask tilted. "What now?"

Venom took that opportunity to jump forward and slammed the entirety of its mass into the suit. She heard Stark yell and then they were falling back, busting through her drywall and into her bedroom. Her arms were shaky as she started to try to get to her feet. The wood floor met her as she fell back down.

Then she saw the separated arm start to loose definition next to her. It melted into a black mass. She was hallucinating. She had to be. The black goo rolled over itself, reaching forward with tendrils and pulling itself towards Venom. The floor shook as the fight increased in front of her. The black slime started to gain momentum and then a piece of it swerved, ripped off and threw itself at her.

Catherine barely stumbled out of the way.

It splatted against her wall, flattening with the force but then started to build towards another attack like an animal without bones.

She swallowed, her hair falling in front of her face as she turned towards it. Again it attacked and she dodged it. It was a blob on her floor, regrouping. Grasping her abandoned pan, she clapped it down over the thing. It thunked against it. Her hair fell over her face. Something cold dripped down her neck. She was bleeding.

Iron Man and Venom rolled back into her destroyed living room. Somebody was banging at the door. This should be a dream.

"Did I hear you right?" Stark blasted the monster into her kitchen cabinets. "Peter Parker is in there?"

It screamed at them, teeth flashing and spit flying in broken lights. Her bag of cheat potato chips exploded. Pieces of Lays were all over the floor.

"Use that big brain and look at its chest," She yelled and held down the pan. It was banging against the metal now violently.

Iron Man shrugged. "I mean, I thought it was just a charlatan or a fan boy?"

Venom ripped her fridge off the wall and threw it at him. It didn't land. Instead the fridge planted fully into her TV. Iron Man grunted noncommittally and then the black thing ran at him again. They disappeared back into the rubble of her apartment.

The larger goo had paused in its crawl back to Venom. It was twisted comically as it had just seen her.

Shit.

It started towards her with frantic yanks. The mass left a wet trail like a snail. She looked for the knife. It was across the room. If she moved, the thing underneath would get loose and then everything would be even worse. It gained momentum and then exploded into fiery strings.

Tony burned it to pieces right before it made it to her. The suit hummed and clicked mechanically. Dust filled the air. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw Venom, Peter, the thing, whatever it was, bust through the remaining glass and wall and fall out the window.

A web shot out of its arm and it disappeared from view.

They looked at each other for a moment. Catherine tried to process. The pieces were all there but none of them fit together. Her apartment had disappeared. She didn't recognized the space anymore. It was a good thing she never decorated.

The thing thunked under her pan.

Iron Man's head cocked and he pointed at her chest. "You okay there doc?"

She fell back and glanced down. Her shirt was covered in blood. The adrenaline was covering it up. Her fingers groped for the wounds. She found a set of lacerations streaking across her collarbone.

"Just a scratch." It came out as a whisper between her swallowing air.

Tony put his foot on the skittering pot. "Good. We can't have you die right now. The tracker is still working on Spider-Man's suit so FRIDAY will keep an eye on that McDonald's ripoff toy. You've got some explaining to do."

She wasn't listening. he apartment was destroyed, wholly and completely. Part of her realized it. The other part still thought it was a dream, a strange illusion. The loss seeped in her.

She got up and stumbled across the burnt, broken and destroyed place that she called home for a couple months. The coffee table was gone, the couch in two pieces but her wine bottle was somewhat intact. She pulled it off the floor, dusted it off and took a long drink directly from the bottle.

"Okay. Listen up then."

* * *

_Is it particularly morbid to say that I enjoyed writing this chapter? I've building towards the Venom "reveal" since the beginning and to actually get to _play_ with that character is so fun. Plus action scenes are hard for me but I'm (usually) happy with them in the end._

_As for Venom himself, I know there is probably a little confusion on which Venom I'm drawing on. Let's just say it is a combo of 2007's and the Sony's for now._

_I'm so thankful that the holidays are over. I've finally been able to write again. It feels so good._

_So. What do you think of all this tomfoolery? Leave me a review if you want. I love to hear from you. It truly makes my day._

_Thank you for reading as always. -Quin_


	13. In Which Chaos Ensues

**In Which Chaos Ensues**

"So the kid is on the run, high on this baloney." Tony stared at the black mass writhing in the container in his lab. Catherine could see him trying to find a way to sear this thing off the face of the planet. Knowing the man, he was coming up with some very scientific and satisfying ways.

Venom had retreated into the sewers and stayed there. Since it was better to know what they were up against, they had left him there with FRIDAY ready to tell them if it made any locational changes. It felt like a mockery to see the Spider-Man symbol in the city on the screen.

The dark circles under Tony's eyes were purple in the light. Hers weren't looking any better. Last time she checked, it was nearing four in the morning.

After arriving in the lab, Tony insisted that Catherine sleep for "his sanity" as they waited for test results. She wasn't sure why. She had only been loudly trying to figure out the parasitic and anatomical nature of Venom.

Catherine fought him all the way as he convinced her to look at the room he called the "crash pad."

It was certainly utilitarian, just a bed, a light and a mini fridge. Somehow it looked better than any bed she had ever seen. He had left with the strict instructions to page if anything came in. Her alarm woke her up just after her head hit the pillow. The sleep had been desperately deep. It almost reminded her of her ER days.

Now she was up again with a steaming cup of coffee and a sassy attitude.

Catherine took another drink of her coffee. "Can we not blame Peter? It called itself Venom."

"Venom?" He squinted at her.

"Venom."

The test results were displayed holographically in front of them and neither one of them liked what they saw.

He pulled up the chemical structure of the thing, blowing it up. "What kinda dumb name is that?"

"You are one to talk." She laughed shortly before his stare cut her short.

"Excuse me?"

She waved the coffee. "Iron Man. You were named after the substance that you created your first suit out of. It's not even iron anymore, is it? Didn't you say you were moving towards titanium nano-pieces or something?"

"Smart gold-titanium nano-particles but it doesn't matter," he sputtered, "plus the media did that. I didn't."

"So 'I am Iron Man' means nothing to you?"

That got him to take a step back, annoyed completely. "I don't have time for this. I have a engagement party I need to stress over. Not this."

"Right."

Tony minimized the information. "Okay. Look. From that blood test you did, Peter got…Venom right after busting out of that lab. You were saying it developed in him?"

"It started out as microorganism and read like the flu. It probably needed time to grow. It's why we've seen a behavior change in the kid lately. Now…well, it's a bouncing baby boy or something."

Something. She wanted to be more scientific but acknowledging that Peter had been infected by an alien substance was harder than she ever wanted to admit. She couldn't address her personal feelings. All she could concentrate on was what to do next.

They both stared at another screen across the room. The map of NYC showed the dot hovering in the sewers.

"We were supposed to go cake tasting today. Pepper is going to kill me." The statement was soft afterthought out of Tony.

Catherine wanted to say that he'd done worse but she was already pushing her luck. Instead she took another chug of her coffee. The bandage flexed against her neck. That thing had almost strangled her and then punctured a lung. Now she was going to see it again soon.

"Any calls from the aunt yet?"

Catherine shook her head. "No but I expect that'll happen soon. Venom is starting to hit the news. A 'Spider-Man look-a-like' they are saying."

"That's cute."

"Adorable." The coffee was just as strong as their sarcasm.

"Sir." FRIDAY lit up part of the map. "I wanted to inform you that four large black vans have exited the Intervention of Ecology center. They appear be sweeping the city."

Tony smiled at her. "Let's get going and pick up the kid. We'll figure out to extract it later."

She lifted her mug in a mock salute.

Catherine held her breath as she turned around the corner and into the alleyway. Red light streaked across the bricks in small lines. The sun started to rise about an hour ago. Dead leaves crunched under her shoes. She risked a glance upwards. The Iron Man suit peaked over the edge of the nearest roof. She adjusted her ear piece. It was only in case of emergencies. Venom or Peter or both would be able to hear the chatter.

They were trying to make this easy. They both said that this was going to be easy. She swallowed but her throat was dry. This was nowhere near easy.

"Peter?"

The tracker had lead them here. Peter hadn't moved for the last half an hour. It appeared as if he was skittering between hiding places as the IE swept the area. Her shoes pushed against trash as she walked around a row of dumpsters. It had be Stark's brilliant idea that since Peter clearly tried to keep the monster from eating her, it might pause before attacking.

The pause would be enough for Iron Man to sneak behind and blast the big fellow with enough electricity to knock it out. If it was just Peter, she would try to reason with him.

"Peter?" She looked behind the dumpsters.

Peter looked up from his seat against the wall.

His asked quietly, "Ms. Catherine?"

He looked awful. His eyes were red rimmed. Dirt and blood were smudged all over his face. Worse of all, he seemed unsure of her, as if he couldn't quite see that she was there. The fabric against his stomach looked stiff and black was flaking off of it. She had to use all her will power to drag her eyes away from that wound.

She paused, not wanting to scare him. "Hey. It's just me."

He watched her hands as she brought them up between them.

"I don't know what's happening, Ms. Catherine." He clutched his head. "It's so confusing."

She walked a few steps forward. "I know but I'm here. I'm going to help you."

Part of her wanted to look up. To see Tony creeping closer to both of them. It made her anxious. Surely since Venom was at bay, he wouldn't electrocute Peter.

"Do you know what's happening? Do you know why I'm here?" His voice cracked on the last question.

She crouched down in front of him. She looked at his face. Peter was lost, so incredibly lost that he had stopped looking for answers. She filled herself with confidence and tried to give that over to him. She knew what she was doing. He was going to be okay. Catherine, the nurse practitioner, was going to help. She had to.

"You don't remember?"

He opened his mouth and an empty sound came out. Peter searched her face for answers and she couldn't force a smile on her face. It was too much. Instead, she reached out and grasped his hand. His fingers remained limp and then they took hold of hers.

"I need you to come with me, kid. I can explain some of it on the way," she said the words as gently as she could, "does that make sense?"

She could see him about to say yes. The word was on the tip of his tongue and then fear took over his face as he turned violently upwards. Blackness swallowed the hand and the kid that she had been holding. Iron Man dropped directly on the writhing mass that was Venom.

"Tony!" She screamed as they interlocked again, smashing into the bricks to the right and left of her. She ran from the violence. It was over. A piece of a building few over her shoulder. She pushed down the yell of frustration . She had been so close. Tony had to go and ruin it.

She barely got out of the way as Venom was catapulted out of the alley, smashing into three cars before pulling himself to a halt. The police sirens started droning off in the distance. She plastered herself against a window as Iron Man took aim and fired.

The car burst into flame but Venom was already gone, screaming angrily as it wheeled away down the street.

A van blared its horn as it drove directly into the monster. The steel and the black curled around each other, crunching into the ground, supports and glass snapping on every impact. It rolled back down the street back towards her and the waiting Iron Man.

Peter was somewhere in there. Her fingers dug hard into her palm. Helpless. Here she was again.

The van tumbled again but she saw claws dig into the metal and Venom's feet planted into the ground. For all his intelligence, Tony appeared to not realize that the van had gained a new target until it was thrown directly at him. The ball of metal smashed into him, driving him into a building.

Venom's mouth was wide as it watched the crash. It hissed and postured at the the hole in the wall before tearing off down the street. It didn't even seem to to notice her.

The burning hole smoked as she ran up to it.

There was no way that she could get inside. Instead she watched as Tony cracked apart the van and fell out steaming onto the asphalt in front of her. He waved her off as he laid on his back. Parts of the suit were red hot.

"I liked the kid more when he was just not listening to me." The speaker crackled.

"Yeah, me too." Catherine wiped her face and it felt slick. There was ash on her hands.

"I'll get up in a minute. Some compressors are overheated. Note for the future, make the suit strong enough for large fireball explosions."

"Don't be in the tests for that please."

Tires and crashes screeched off in the distance, getting further and further away.

"Ohhhhh I will." Tony moved an arm and she could see the stiffness in the joints. "Only so you can keep your job."

"How thoughtful of you."

There was gunfire now. A light tapping sound that echoed from building to building.

"Are you done being lazy?"

The guns cut out suddenly.

"Yup."

Smoke and ash fell off the suit as he got up. Most of it had returned to its normal color but a sheet of gray remained over Iron Man. The blue eyes locked onto hers and then the suit blasted off, back towards the broken cars and yelling people.

Catherine didn't wait. There was too much to do. Peter was completely in Tony's hands now.

She started to address the injuries around her. People were pulling themselves out of cars, heads bleeding and mouths screaming. She had no control over what happened with Venom and Iron Man so she did what she could elsewhere. Someone hurried a fit aid kit from a kitchen out to her as she triaged the patients, applied pressure and stopped as much major bleeding as she could.

These people, this was Venom's fault and it made her hate the thing more.

The ambulances started to come, filing in neatly one after another. She helped, feeling herself fall into a rhythm with the EMTs. They spoke the same language as she did.

They didn't question her qualifications. It was about urgency and the smudges of blood that were left behind on the concrete and her hands.

Time stretched and then all at once contracted.

Tony reappeared in front of her. His arms were empty. She stopped staring at the sight that she didn't expect. He landed roughly, taking a few extra steps. The gurney rolled past her with one of the last of the injured. Her hand drew off the bed and she stayed still on the spot.

Catherine felt something in her stomach. She shoved it down as the face plate popped open.

He tried to speak a few times and finally the words came out. "The lab got him."

His eyes roamed across hers. She stared at him like he had told her that he had killed the kid instead.

"What?"

Tony shook his head. "They know something we don't. By the time I got there, they had both it and Peter out for the count."

She could see it. Peter unconscious and dragged away into a black van, never to be seen again. How could this happen?

"Then you fight them instead," She shouted at him.

His voice was soft. "They said if I didn't leave, they'd kill the kid."

"And you believed them?"

"They had strapped.." He paused. "They had strapped a bomb vest to him. Of course I believed them."

"Then you shoot them Tony."

He shook his head. "Not that many Catherine. I couldn't find the detonator. One mistake and the kid would have been dead."

She wanted to scream and punch him. She wanted to rip him to pieces before she turned on herself. What stopped her was the man, not the suit. There was a crack in the expression on Tony's face, showing a mirror of the panic and fear. It leaked out. He had tried to stop it but it was spreading anyways.

The sirens cried out in the distance as they left the scene. Her fingers curled into a fist slick with sweat and blood. She couldn't look at him. She couldn't look at anything. Even the ground was too solid and sharp.

Her fingers uncurled, letting go and going slack.

They had lost.

Worse than that, they had lost Peter Parker.

And they had failed him.

* * *

_Sometimes I feel like I have a lot to say about a chapter. Other times I just feel like it's a more somber nodding and "yup, we're rolling along". This happened to be one of those._

_So I just wanted to take this to say thank you for all the love for Catherine and co. Inserting a character into any universe is always such a risk and it usually can go badly (trust me, I've written them) so thank you so much for embracing Catherine Crow, her brutal honestly and a soft spot for a teenage kid. An author usually loves their characters but it is a whole other level of joy to see someone else like them too. _

_So thanks._

_Let me know what you think? Did you expect this? What do you think they are going to do to get out of this one?_

_Thank you for reading as always. - Quin_


	14. In Which Catherine Is Underqualified

**In Which Catherine Is ****Underqualified**

"Hello. I'm Spider-Man's nurse. I'm here to see him."

The words felt alien coming out of Catherine's mouth. It was as if they had a physical presence with each symbol pulling on her. Contractually, she was never supposed to tell anyone about this. It was private information. Information that made her valuable and vulnerable.

The twenty-something-year-old secretary popped her chewing gum.

For being a lab experimenting with alien organisms, the Intervention of Ecology presented itself nicely. The lobby was clean and modern. The front window was filled with orchids and abstract art was hung on the walls.

They were alone. Catherine was even more nervous than she had been. Something about the isolation made everything feel worse.

The teen blinked finally. "Yeah and I'm Thor's lover. What's your purpose of your trip to our facilities?"

Catherine forced herself to breath slowly.

"As I said, I'm Spider-Man's healthcare provider."

Tony's crazy scheme wasn't going to work. She should have said no. She should walk away now. Instead, she slid her ID and a copy of her certification across the desk.

"We handle ecological experiments here." Tris, as the name badge said, smiled painfully and ignored her papers. "I think you are most likely able to find your superhero anywhere else."

"Can you call back to your science department and let them know I'm here?"

"I can call security for you instead?"

She looked past Tris and wondered how many layers of security were between her and Peter. She had to get through every single one. There was still a chance to walk away. The door wasn't locked behind her. She couldn't do that. Peter meant too much to her. Later she could dwell on the ramifications of that.

"I'm not trying to cause any problems. I want to help. He's still internally hemorrhaging. Can you call someone?" She leaned forward. Her actual medical uniform felt strange against her skin. Stark didn't require her to wear in in her day-to-day job unless she needed it. For this, she thought any extra shred of credibility was going to work in her favor.

"Yeah. Sure. I'll call someone." She picked up her phone. "Security. I've got a lady here who claims to be a nurse to Spider-Man. Yeah. I know. It's only Tuesday. Can you come out? What's her name?" Before she had a chance to put them back, Tris grasped her ID. "Catherine Crow."

Catherine could feel that she was blushing as she rubbed the bridge of her nose.

"Hmmm?" Tris' eyes snapped to her face. "Yeah. What?"

Catherine let her fingers fall back to the desk. She forced the flicker of a smile off her face before it had a chance to catch. Tris listened on the phone for a long time, the voice varied but unintelligible in her ear. It ended with a "yes, sir."

The phone slammed into its cradle. Tris sucked in breath, straightened and then pointed to one of their chairs.

"Take a seat. I'll be making you a guest pass with your ID."

Catherine smiled. "Thanks."

"It's my _pleasure_ doctor."

It was the closest she felt to being flipped off in years. Well, if she erased every moment with Tony Stark from her mind.

As two large security guards took her through the sterile offices, Catherine couldn't help but remember her last conversation with Tony. He had looked her straight in the face and told her the only way to break Peter out was for her to go undercover. She had about lost it.

"About" was the key word in that phrase.

The freshly printed guest pass flapped against her stomach. The office looked normal enough. People dragged around like it was the middle of the week with coffee mugs in their hands. Nothing suspicious looking here. At every corner, she thought it was going to turn into a high tech nightmare.

Instead they left her in a conference room with a poster of a serene lake framed on the wall. It smelled like all purpose cleaner.

She wasn't doing this because the walls were too thick or the security wasn't encrypted enough. It was a simple equation that if Iron Man busted in, then he would smash through the entire lab, opening everything in pandora's box. If Spider-Man could accidentally unleash Venom, what could a high tech suit with an extremely pissed off man inside do in a science lab full of goodies?

So here she was.

A scout, Tony had insisted.

A spy, Catherine had countered, and a very unqualified one at that.

The door opened and three people filed in. They all wore lab coats and looked like they hadn't slept last night either. All of them were male and white. God she hated occupational disparity.

The main fellow, who looked like all he did in his spare time was pump iron and chug kale smoothies, sat down in a chair that barely fit him. The other two stood behind him like guards. If it was supposed to be intimidating, it didn't work. She was used to this.

She folded her hands on the table and waited.

"Give us one reason not to throw out a Stark Industries employee after Iron Man attacked our asset." He started seriously.

Asset. Catherine held air in her lungs before forcing the fury down.

"I'm not here as a representative of Stark Industries," she moved through the phrase clinically, "He doesn't even know I'm here. I've come because I care for the kid called Spider-Man."

No expression change from Mr. Muscle.

"I am having a hard time believing that Catherine."

This man was full of bullshit.

"I would prefer Ms. Crow."

Silence. She gave her best good girl sweet smile.

It worked. He squirmed.

"Alright Ms. Crow. I'm still not convinced."

She smiled. "Alright. Let's talk about Spider-Man's physiology. Have you gotten reports on him? He's different than us and I know he is in physical distress."

"Perhaps." Mr. Muscle shrugged noncommittally.

She spread her her hands out on the table trying to not gauge how quickly her blood pressure was rising. "Let's talk vitals. We all need to breath. What's his respiratory rate? I bet he is either in single digits or skyrocketing into the twenties. He could be going into cardiac arrest or shock. I am the only one that can look at those numbers accurately."

One of the back scientists' faces told her that this was what was exactly happening to Peter.

That expression gave her an ounce of confidence. "As for Stark, call his office. They think I'm home puking into my toilet."

One of the lab attendants slipped out the door.

"This is a big risk you are taking."

She nodded. "I've worked with the kid for half a year now. I got attached. He came to my apartment last night before Iron Man tracked him down. He told me about you. I…" Peter bleeding on her floor made the smoothness of her pretended cool catch in her throat. "I think something is wrong with him."

Mr. Muscle let out a breath and leaned back against his chair, making it crackle under the pressure.

She met his eyes.

"Am I right?"

He was chewing on her words. She was the one under the knife, the scalpel digging in and the bright light washing everything flat.

She wanted to keep going, to pile phrase after practiced phrase on top of what she had said. Instead she concentrated on her folded hands on the table. A scar ran across the top her hand, a narrow white line. It was from playing baseball with her father. Ten stitches. Her first ten.

He tapped the table decisively. Her attention snapped back to him.

"Fine. You're going to sign a NDA. I'll take you into the back after you go through security. One wrong step and you are out the door."

"I'll sign away but I'll do whatever I need to save the kid."

"You play by our rules now. You will work with our medical staff in a purely supervisory role."

"I need to work with him personally. He knows me. He'll be comfortable with me."

"He'll hear your wonderful voice through the intercom." The snide touch on the adjective made something snap in her.

That wouldn't do. She pushed out of the chair and addressed the shrimp behind the guy. "Hey. You. Yeah, you look you look like you might know this. What's your asset's resting BPM right now?"

The scientist shrunk as Mr. Muscle twisted in his seat.

"Ummm. I don't know."

Catherine smiled. "I bet you do. Is it 120?"

He shrunk further away brushing into the wall.

"130?" She straightened, taking up the space she needed.

"I'm not sure."

"140?" Her voice got louder.

"It was a resting 138 BPM last time we were able to check. He was still unconscious." The phrase came squeezed out of him quietly as her glare.

Jesus. Catherine's breath oozed out of her, leaving her in a vacuum. Peter's heart was beating twice every second while laying down. He was one stressed teen.

"You don't need a master's degree to know that is bad." She gave Mr. Muscles one more look. Her voice softened even though she felt her own heart beating hard. "Frankly, we don't have time to talk. He's dying. Now let's sign the paperwork and get this over with. I'm probably the only one who is crazy enough to come here unasked and even crazier to want to step in the same room as that monster."

His face tightened. She may have pushed this too far. She could have been too much herself. Tony, the crew, they were all used to her but this was someone else, someone she didn't know. He stood.

"Let's get that paperwork signed."

Maybe she wasn't so underqualified for this after all.

* * *

_Why is it when Catherine stories roll into the third act, I get to work with EMTs and paramedics in my real life? I worked with both yesterday. It is truly bizarre. While I won't say where I work, it has absolutely nothing to do with the health industry. _

_Everything that I write Catherine knowing has been researched. __I got a few weird looks for having the book "EMT: Emergency Medical Technician Cram Course" sticking out of my purse today. I also had a note on this chapter just called "__tachypnea". __I think my coworkers are thinking I might be wanting a change in career. Hardly. I don't think I could give up writing._

_Catherine is going toe to toe with Venom again next chapter. __What do you think? Are you excited? Nervous? I was very nervous to write the next chapter and I knew what happened._

_Thank you for reviewing and reading. It means a lot to me. In Stitches has 40 reviews. Do you think In Pieces will be able to beat that?_

_Thanks as always and sorry for the longer author's note. I guess I feel chatty. -Quin_


	15. In Which Checkmate Is Called

**In Which Checkmate Is Called**

Catherine paused outside the door to the lab. Ice curled paths up her veins. It took all her concentration to pretend that it wasn't fear. They had finally opened the last door between her and the room that they were keeping Peter in.

"This way." The guy who was guiding her said mindlessly. Everything had felt automated from the papers that had been put in front of her to the security pat down she had gone through. Only the scientists and janitors stared at her.

"Ms. Crow?"

Her tennis shoes hadn't moved. She thought that they had moved. With her chin up, Catherine forced herself to take the next step. Her chest was stinging now. A drip of something warm had worked down her chest. It was probably blood but it hadn't stained through her shirt just yet.

The building had finally turned into the lab that she had been expecting, all glass, steel and strongly smelling of cleaning solution. She had seen things in tubes that she never thought that she could imagine. The exposed ceilings showed pipes and electricity that she knew couldn't be broken.

Her guide clicked the door shut behind him. At first, she thought he was a guard. The man was shrimp, neither security or brave. He was a lab tech and would barely look her in the eyes. A good combination for her.

The room was medium sized lab. It wasn't the ego stroking size of Tony's but it should have read as impressive to her with the slick computer screens and projections. Her eyes barely noticed the tubes, the wires or the cameras. The ten people in the room seemed like paper cut outs with dead eyes that stared at her like she was from another planet.

None of that mattered.

There was a room attached to the lab.

In that room was what she was after.

Venom, its black body shining in the light, stood inches away from the glass. One hand pressed hard against the surface as it stood confronting them all. Venom looked at her. Catherine felt herself pause again. She matched the glare. She was going to win this fight.

Muscles flexed in its shoulders. The white eyes narrowed and then the hand dragged off the glass slowly.

The monster turned away into the rest of the room which only held a bed.

"It hasn't released Spider-Man for the last hour. Not since it regained consciousness," Shrimp said.

She took a breath. She was in control of this situation. The eyes on her back meant nothing.

"How did you get Venom and Spider-Man unconscious?" She asked. They hadn't given any indication that they knew that Spider-Man was Peter Parker. She meant to keep it that way.

As she crossed the room she forced herself even closer to Venom. He was walking away from her.

"The symbiote is sensitive to sound. You play the right frequency and it'll disintegrate back into the host body." He followed her. "It's dangerous move . It might be damaging to the hosts. Results are inconclusive on that. Today seemed like an appropriate risk."

"Symbiote?" The rest of what he had said didn't stick. What kind of science fiction shit was this?

"It's better than alien." He leaned against a table putting it in between them. His fingers were curled against the edge. She stopped. Her shoes scuffled against the ground. The room was quiet except for the beeping of a few machines. The scientists looked at her, all waiting to see what she was going to do.

Her eyebrows rose. "It's actually an alien?"

"Yes."

She shouldn't have asked the question if she didn't want to know the answer. This was much worse than she thought. It was one thing to wonder if the black thing was a lab creation or an object from outer space. It was another to have that confirmed.

Venom sat down on the bed in a mockery of a human, resting hands on knees, just watching her.

Her fingers wrapped around her watch. Security hadn't paid enough attention. Well, there was no time like the present. She pressed the two buttons on it. No one noticed.

Now to keep them paying attention to her.

The trauma kit waited for her on the table next to the door. It was a black bag and had a good brand name on it. Most anything she could want would be in there. There was air in the room she repeated to herself. This was part of the agreement. Beyond that, if there was a fraction of a chance that she could help Peter before all hell broke loose, she was going to take it.

"I still wouldn't advise you going in there." Shrimp hung back as she took up the handle of the kit. It was heavier than usual. A quick peak showed her extra gauze and a bottle of saline liquid. Clever.

"Well. We don't always get what we want," she said firmly. Venom studied her with interest as she paused outside the door. It was a double door system with a small anti-chamber in the middle. The first door opened.

She didn't have to go in there.

Peter's panicked expression came back to her.

She stepped inside.

The watch buzzed on her arm. Iron Man had confirmed her location in the building.

The chamber smelled like filtered air and a hospital. The door behind her closed and then after a moment, the door into the cage opened.

She took one breath. There was no time for fear anymore.

Venom didn't get up as she walked in the room. Its head turned ever so slightly to the left. Catherine felt the lack of separation. Nothing was holding it back from her. No walls, no guns, nothing. She had insisted on going in, that she could fix it.

The alien moved its head slightly to the other side. White pupils rolled up and down her. The space barely fit it, making it feel even bigger. They had built it clearly for the human inside, not the monster himself. Something flexed inside its jaw.

She stopped midway between the door and the monster.

"You come again, human." It said and she couldn't help but watch the broken teeth click against each other. "You must have a death wish."

Her heart beat in her chest. She knew how fast that thing could move. The long nails curled and flexed idly as it spoke.

"I am keeping my promise." She hated the little shake in her tone. Her fingers held onto the handle tighter, feeling how firm it was in her hand. That would keep her from spinning away into fear. There was a job to do here.

"Words are easy. Actions are much harder." It leaned forward and she felt herself flinch. "You work with Iron Man. A man in a tin suit who has very little idea about anything."

That may have been the best description of Tony that she had ever heard.

"He was following me."

"A likely story." Venom purred. Veins pulsed white against skin and the anatomy was almost hyperbolic. Every muscle felt sharp and predatory. This thing was meant to kill. It sat up straight, already taller than her. The spider symbol stretched and flexed on its chest with the movement.

"How is the kid?"

She hoped that Venom had enough smarts to not use Peter's name.

"The child still bleeds."

Shit. The room was spinning in the corners of her eye. She had been holding her breath. She forced herself to breathe. The noise wavered between them.

"You _care_ so much." It hissed, "It is eats you alive."

Something close to pain bloomed in her chest. It shouldn't be true. Her feelings shouldn't matter. The words of the monster hit home. She had crossed that line that nurses were never supposed to walk across.

It didn't make her answer. Instead a pink tongue lulled out. Drool dropping to the floor.

"You are nervous human. I can taste it from here," it continued.

"If you were in my position, I'm sure you would feel the same." There was no use hiding it.

The tongue slipped back in. It opened a hand. "Why do they stop me? Do you know? I found a host and now I protect the child. Is that so wrong?"

He eased a little further off the bed. Catherine felt herself try to bolt. She refused to do it.

"I found him broken and weak. I help him. He is stronger, braver, faster, because of me." He closed his fist. "I am simply coexisting and remedying his faults."

That sparked the anger in her stomach. She took a step forward.

"I am here to help him. Let me stop the bleeding."

The fist fell between its knees. "You are here to help _him_?"

She felt sweat on her shoulder blades.

It straightened. A sharpness came into its tone. "They want to trap me. The tin man wants to destroy me. What do you want?"

Eyes were watching them. A camera recorded. Scientists in the adjoining room were plastered against the glass like fans at a game.

"I'll say it over and over again. It's the truth. I am here to help him." The shake was gone. She looked the thing right in the eyes. Damn the consequences.

The alien blinked and sighed. At first, it appeared to be a sigh, shoulders lowering but as they fell, they continued inwards as the mass receded like a wave from the shore. The blackness revealed a skinny kid in a black suit.

It left Peter in a silent rush tucking away into nothing. Her mind couldn't comprehend the change so quickly. Venom had to go somewhere, physical mass didn't just disappear. It was scientifically impossible.

Peter blinked and looked at her in a daze, mouth half open. It didn't matter.

"Hey, hey, hey." She rushed forward closing the distance between them. He wavered and fell back onto the bed. The bag clattered on the floor. She caught him before impact, supporting his neck and grasping for purchase on his back. Her own muscles strained under the dead weight and momentum. It was too much. They bounced against the mattress.

He groaned, rubbing his eyes. "I keep waking up in weird places. What's up with that?"

The mask was gone. His face was a shade of gray. Blood still crackled against his cheek. He didn't resist as she adjusted him on the mattress, slinging his legs straight and then pushing his shoulders so he wasn't so curved.

"Well. You've gotten yourself in a little bit of trouble." she said but her mind was racing. There was so much to do and there was little time to do it. Venom felt like it hovered over her. One small mistake and it would take away everything.

"I did?"

He was talking so his airways were clear enough.

"I'm going to take your pulse but later I'm going to get you grounded for the rest of your life, young man." Peter barely noticed as she put her fingers against carotid artery. His eyes rolled around as she watched her clock. The vein beat against her fingers.

132 BPM.

"I'm so tired. Where are we?"

She watched his chest rise and fall. It was heightened but not critical.

"You're safe enough for the moment." It wasn't a lie. They weren't going to hurt him.

The blood on his stomach was dried in a radius around the puncture. The stab itself was still a fresh red. She reached back and pulled the trauma kit open.

Peter's eyes were following her. "What's going on Ms. Catherine? Where are we? Why are you here?"

There was an edge of worry in his voice now. The oddness of the situation was becoming apparent to him.

"We need to concentrate on this first." She didn't want to answer all of that question. Every word out of her mouth felt like it was going to be too much. He tried to half lift himself up but pain laced across his face and he fell back. The bed squealed under the pressure.

"Tell me how it feels." She pulled out the saline, dressing, a pad bandage and a flashlight. Her watch buzzed again. She had to work faster. The hairs stood up on the back of her neck.

"It hurts. A lot. What did I do? Fall off a building again?"

"This isn't a good time to pull my leg. I'm going to take off the top of the suit so I can look at these puncture wounds." Catherine prayed and tried to peel back the suit. Blood and dirt fell off into chunks. His hands came to hers to stop but he pressed them into the covers.

The front puncture wound was deep and blackened on his stomach. She hoped that the discoloration was because of Venom. Peter's abdomen flexed around it. No red streaks ran up his body and it was warm to the touch. The lights made it hard to see inside it.

"Does it hurt or does it tingle?"

Even if his healing was stinted, it was still working doggedly on it. It was further along than it had any right to be. She glanced at the other stab wound. It was in a similar state. Neither were freely bleeding. If they had struck major organs, well, in this situation there was nothing that she could do about it.

"Hurts." He raised his head. "But seriously. How did it happen?"

She squinted at him as she took the penlight in her hand. "You don't remember?"

"Everything has been hazy. I don't remember much of anything. Are we in a lab? Why are there people staring at us?"

Peter was a smart kid. Even with this amount of trauma, he should recall something. This had never come up before.

"You've…" The words caught in her throat. If Peter didn't know about Venom then it might be because the symbiote didn't want him to know the truth. And now wasn't the time to risk that. Medically, the kid wasn't out of the woods.

She changed the question. "Do you remember when you said you didn't want to go to the hospital?"

"What?"

If she couldn't tell him about it yet, maybe she could figure out the effects.

"Do you remember taking down the drug cartel?" She snapped on the penlight and looked close at his injuries. It wasn't pretty but they were clean enough to pack until they got to a controlled environment. The dead tissue would need to be cleaned out as well.

He shook his head. "I remember you scolding me about it but I don't remember doing it. I read about it in the news like you guys. And then I got angry…and everything went fuzzy again."

Her fingers froze. She stared at Peter. That would have been a moment where she thought that she had been talking to Peter. How long had she been truly interacting with Venom?

The watch buzzed again shaking her out of her stare. She pressed the thin white gauze against the puncture, layering it over and over as the blood started to seep up. He didn't even remember that conversation.

Why didn't you say something?" She removed the dirty gauze and moved into the gauze with saline. She would pack the wound inside to keep it clean. Later she could explain to him that this was something that had to heal from the inside out.

"I've been so busy lately. Sometimes I swing around so late that I'm so tired I don't remember stuff," he said quietly, "And you've been helping me so much that I couldn't…I couldn't bring it up something so silly to you."

"Next time you tell me about it, understand?" She asked as she worked. He winced as she put gauze in place.

As she looked, she saw them then. Two black discolorations as wide as baseballs on his back. She could have discounted them as bruises but they had white veins in them. Venom.

She tried to concentrate on what was at hand.

The dressing were inserted into the second stab wound. Then she applied dressing pads on top. They soaked and clung to the surface of his body. It would do for the moment.

He blinked something out of his eyes and stared at the ceiling barely paying attention to her. "Everything has been messy lately. Even with Aunt…you know...I just want to be Spider-Man. I'm such a failure."

The room was bathed in red as the lights switched. An alarm run out, vibrating painfully in her eardrums. Out of the corner of her eye, she saw the lab techs and the scientists spring into action. They didn't have much time now. Catherine grasped the long bandage instead.

"One step at a time kid," she said, "this step is getting this wrapped around you."

"Wait." Peter straightened. "Are you breaking me out? Are you undercover?"

"Maybe." She slipped a hand under his back and half lifted up Peter. His fingers dug into her arm. The gray fabric wrapped over his midsection, covering the pads as quickly as she could make it.

"All the things I've done for you recently. Maybe I should have you over to clean the tops of my fans." She huffed and tied it tight. Her apartment was in shambles. That thought was for later.

"You are turning into one of us." He sucked in his breath. It had to hurt.

Iron Man was maybe a floor or two above them now, carefully carving through floor after floor like cake. Now was her chance. Who knew what Venom was going to do when it realized that she was working with Tony. She had to get this right.

She sat closer and put her hands on his shoulders. "I need you to listen to me. There is something in you. It's taking you over."

"What are you taking about?" He was struggling to put it together, she could see it. The pieces were in his mind. They didn't fit together.

"That's why you have gaps in your memory. It takes over. I don't care how it feels. It's not good for you. You have to fight it. However you can. You are stronger than this."

Maybe it was her imagination but there was a change in his eyes. The smallest little difference. The warmth shut off. She could have pretended was the flashing red light.

But then he leaned back and laughed hard.

Her hands fell away from him.

"Man, Ms. Catherine, I didn't know we were joking today."

"I'm not joking." The disappointment bit into her and hung on.

The ceiling tile crackled. A red light came through it and carved a circle. The steel hissed and spluttered. Spider-Man sprung up from the bed and jogged across the room. Spinning out a web, he pulled hard and the metal fell from the ceiling with a clatter.

"Are you alive and kicking kid?" Iron Man's head came through the hole.

Peter smiled as he pulled up his suit, the grin going a half an inch too high. "Yeah. Ms. Catherine patched me up after the lab took the thing out of me. I didn't know you were coming Mr. Stark."

He gave her a backwards glance at her. A look that told much more than she ever wanted.

"So the Venom monster affliction is cured?" Iron Man didn't swing down, instead he widened the hole. More metal fell to the ground.

"Yes, sir. Sorry about that."

"That's fantastic. Do you know how many dangerous looking things are in here? We're going to shut down this place faster than the FDA slapping an F on that bad restaurant down the street."

She sat on the bed. It had gone cold in the room. She could barely hear the alarms anymore.

"Great." He turned back toward her and offered an arm towards her. "Are you ready Ms. Catherine?"

The glint in his eye told her one thing. _You'll have to do better than that._

Peter stood in his black suit offering a hand. As much as she hated it, the priority was getting Peter out of the lab. Without that, there would have been no point to any of this. She would have to warn Tony somehow of the lie.

"You coming?" He asked the question again. The confidence didn't falter in his voice.

"Yeah." She stood up. "I'm coming. Let's get you out of here."

* * *

_Sorry for being a day late. Thank you for reading as always. - Quin_


	16. In Which She Confronts A Menace

**In Which She Confronts A Menace**

Catherine stared at Peter's back as they headed down the landing pad of Stark's building. His spine was straight, almost rigid in the morning light. The kid she knew walked with a slump, the causal teen nonchalance even as Spider-Man. That was one of the reasons that the articles could never figure out his age. How could someone who appeared so young be so brave?

She swallowed but the pain didn't go away.

They had taken a helicopter ride from the IC to work. Tony didn't know how dangerous this situation was. Instead he was cutting it up with the kid, mentioning the newest drama with the engagement party. This week it was the speeches. Apparently Pepper's maid of honor wanted to make a thirty minute speech. Peter, or Venom, humored him.

It could happen any moment. The adrenaline hadn't stopped pumping since they had left the lab. Now she knew the extent of the facade, it was so evident. Everything that Venom did grated against her.

"Boy, that's a tough one, Mr. Stark." Venom walked abreast to Tony. Peter always walked ever so slightly behind him.

Tony lead them towards the offices. They were going to take Venom straight into heart of Stark's had assumed that Catherine would want to do more of an examination to make sure all the "ick" was gone. No one had given her a chance to say otherwise.

"I know that we are the best power couple but Pepper says it might be rude to turn it into a fifteen minute powerpoint presentation instead."

She interjected, politeness trying to cover the panic."Could I have a word?"

"What's a matter, Ms. Catherine?" Peter's focus jerked to her.

He wasn't wearing his suit anymore. Tony had put some acceptable "pleb" clothes the helicopter. Now he just looked like a mockery of the kid she knew.

Damn. Catherine felt like she breathing sand.

"Tony had a medical question earlier and I've realized the answer." She tried to be relaxed about it, forcing her shoulders to drop low. "I thought that I should tell him before I forgot again."

If Tony thought this was strange, he didn't lead on. "Well, let's hold on that thought for later."

A flicker of a smile on the kid's face made her blood boil.

The hallway turned to the elevator lobby. She needed to stop this. There was sensitive equipment in the building. If Venom came out, not only could it possibly kill both of them before Tony could suit up, it could make a mess bigger than one building.

"Tony."

He swiped for the elevator. Peter moved and leaned against the wall, all hips and proud shoulders. She wanted to shake the billionaire to pay attention.

"So. Game plan." He clapped his hands as they waited for the elevator. "I'm glad they got Mr. Gooey Goo out of Peter. Now, here's the real question: kid, are you feeling okay?"

What the hell?

"Yeah."

Those stab wounds were nowhere near healed.

"Great. Catherine, we're going to the lab instead. Yesterday some propulsion tech was causing me problems and Peter might be able to have some rookie luck with it."

Yesterday, Tony had been with her. The apartment attack had been early in the morning and then they had spent the rest of the day figuring out how to get him back.

There was no propulsion tech testing.

Peter nodded. "Yeah, that sounds like fun!"

It was a weekday. Clearly, Venom forgot that school might be a concern.

She had been in the propulsion lab. The walls were insulated and there was extra security. It was build for an accidental explosion and it was possibly the only place that Venom might not be able to smash out of easily.

They stepped in the elevator. Whatever game Venom was playing, she hoped that it wouldn't come out now. Peter pressed the button for the first floor.

"Oh no, kid. It's only two floors down."

"Oh sorry." Then he glanced at her. "Sorry, Ms. Catherine. I know you told me to stop apologizing."

She tightened her hand on her hip, bruising the skin underneath. He wasn't sorry. Venom was mocking her. Momentum took the metal box down too quickly. It was too late, the elevator dropped past the propulsion floor before Tony pressed the button. They would have to ride it all the way down.

Tony didn't talk. He stayed quiet.

He very much knew.

She watched the number trickle down.

Tony's toe tapped against the floor.

When the door opened for the ground level, there was a good chance that Venom was going to bolt. She could grab Spider-Man's arm and probably get some broken fingers in return. That action could even make Venom appear. There was no point.

The numbers were in the single digits now.

"Peter," she said quietly and then stopped. What could she say? He wasn't really him listening.

"Yes, Ms. Catherine?" He turned to her, showing his face in the view of a security camera in the elevator.

She needed to say something, anything.

"Peter-"

The door binged and opened, filling the room with the light and noise from the lobby. Instantly, his attention was gone from her. He rotated on his toes, leaned forward to run and jerked to a stop.

Aunt May stood in front of doors. Her eyes were wide, relief and angry crumbling through. Peter stiffened. She stepped forward and wrapped her arms around him. They stumbled back a few steps into the lobby in silence.

Catherine was frozen.

"You're alright."

His hands were stopped in the air, fingers half curled and hovering over her back.

"You weren't at home. You weren't at school." She held him tighter. "I called here and they said you were being rescued?"

Peter didn't move.

"All this time I was gone, I kept worrying about you."

Aunt May's hand grasped his head, tucking him closer to her.

Catherine couldn't breath.

"I'm so glad that your okay," she said into his shoulder.

His hands fell onto her back and then they collapsed as they touched. The body softened in her arms.

"Aunt May?"

Catherine knew that high pitched lonely voice. It was Peter's. It was really Peter's.

Something was clicking in her mind. It couldn't be that easy. Catherine looked at Tony. He had a strange expression on his face.

"I'm here." She squeeze tighter. "I've been worrying so much."

"No," he said softly, "wait. I can't-"

He stumbled back drunk, trying to get away. "No, I've got to go. I can't stay. I've got to get away from here."

Peter's face was full of confusion and a morbid amount of panic. A red stain had formed on his stomach again. He touched it and then backed out, further out away from elevator and into the busy lobby. That broke the spell. They could move again.

"Peter, you're hurt." Aunt May chased him. Catherine glanced at Tony. He was staring out the south entrance. An Iron Man suit was approaching slowly. It made waves around the people it but it hadn't caused enough ruckus to draw Venom's attention.

"I'm okay." Peter held out his slick hands and kept backing away. He started to blabber. If this was any other time, she might have realized how much she missed it. "Something bad is happening. It keeps happening. Ms. Catherine said something…about something and I know she's right but I keep forgetting things."

Peter was going pale in the artificial lights. Blood dipped to the white tile.

They were all out of the elevator now. Staff stopped, creating a semicircle around them, most of them were looking at Tony but their attention was rapidly shifting to Peter. The whispered were blending into a dangerous low monotone.

"Please." Peter wrapped an arm around his stomach. A frantic sort of energy came off of him. It was so strong that it pushed May back, forcing her to keep her distance.

Tony's voice was level next to her as they shadowed him. "That's right kid. Right now, we need you to hold it together."

There were so many people.

"I don't know. I don't know. I don't know. I'm trying. Ms. Catherine-" The words ran together and he held his head. He fell back into himself.

And then that battle was lost.

Catherine managed to drag May back as Venom rippled into shape in front of them. Tony broke off to the left. She could hear the suit mimic the motion to meet him. Fear drove up into her throat but she swallowed it away. May was in some form of shock, only a strangled sound left her mouth and Catherine pulled her further back.

"Well, you all are most certainly annoying."

The monster crouched down in front of them. It leaned on its fingers. The tiles underneath them crackled under the pressure. The blood ran in between the cracks. The pupilless eyes focused on them as it cocked its head.

"You, female relative, I know you. I should thank you. You've tore a hole so wide in this child that four of us could fit in. For that reason, I shall let you run away and continue to survive."

Catherine knew it. Her fingers fell from May's arm. Peter didn't know. He was just a kid. All their criticism and guidance. Peter had taken it the wrong way. He thought that they wanted him to stop. Venom had probably even twisted the words even more in his mind.

People were moving in the distance. Faintly, she saw staff desperately trying to push out of the building.

Venom's head turned to her. "You, on the other hand. Fool me once, shame on me, fool me twice…"

Catherine did what felt impossible. She turned away from Venom. The hair on the back of her neck stood on end as she did it. The words it was saying cut off in a hiss.

"What do you think of Spider-Man?" She asked May. Catherine grasped her shoulder, trying to ground herself in all this nonsense.

May's face crumpled as she tried to look at her and the monster at once. "What?"

May tried to jerk away, to run back towards the elevator. Catherine pulled her back. This had to work. This had to be the solution.

Venom was still. A tile snapped as it moved a step forward. "What are you doing strange human?"

"How do you feel about Spider-Man?" She asked again and seeing that was going nowhere immediately, she sputtered another question. "Do you hate him?"

"Of course not." May answered it without thinking, exactly what Catherine wanted.

The effect was immediate. Venom screamed, a hollow and terrible sound, and it tore backwards. She saw the surface skin flicker and writhe on top of itself.

Catherine's chest pounded and her hand loosened on May. She couldn't help the little smile that came across her face.

There it was.

They had it.

Iron Man ripped across the room, thrusters filling the lobby with smoke. Venom pulled itself together but as it did that, Tony smashed down into it, pinning it into the ground.

"May…" Catherine breathed. "Come on. Tell me what you think."

May swallowed, her eyes flickering around like she couldn't quite grasp what was happening.

Venom was pushing up against Iron Man, digging into the concrete of the floor. Dust was floating in the air now.

"He's…" May opened and closed her mouth a few items. Her hands were fists.

"He's good at what he does." Catherine started for her.

She nodded. "He's an amazing Spider-Man."

Venom hissed in front of them. She could see Tony was struggling to keep the monster under control. It was only a matter of time.

"He's been a little dumb lately," May said, "but he's really helps so many people. Did you know he got me flowers once?"

That did it, another ripple. This one must have been more painful than the last as Venom twisted around under the pressure, curling in on itself. The teeth bulged out, curling out into the air as it screamed

"He saved a little kid last week from a car accident. He held onto him until his parents came." She laughed with a choke at the end. "He amused him with dumb magic tricks."

Venom held on then with only a slight ripple, pushing hard against Iron Man bucking him off. A claw came lashing out towards them and they stumbled back from it. It threw up a cloud of dust as it was slammed back down into the ground.

"Yeah?" Catherine asked.

May nodded and waved her hands in front of herself as she tried to build sentences. "The only reason that I'm been trying to get him to slow down is because I was…because I want him to be smart, to use that big brain, to keep being Spider-Man but safely. How could I forgive myself if something happened to him?"

It loosened, the blackness splitting wildly all over.. The head started to loose definition. Tony took hold of an arm and it spooled out into strands that he couldn't hold onto. Catherine felt herself shaking. Everyone was gone now. The building was clear enough that Catherine could ask the question that she really wanted to.

"What do you think of Peter being Spider-Man?"

Venom yelled then, again, a unhinged sound, contorting into a string, trying to get to them.

"He's being so incredibly brave." Fear fell away from May. She turned towards the mess and stood solidly against the terror.

"He's everything that Ben and I hoped that he would turn out to be."

Venom collapsed, all sense of definition gone. Muscles melted away into liquid, attempting to ooze away. Iron Man's hands grasped something solid and with one thorough yank, the blackness peeled away. Catherine saw it let go of Peter, the tendrils held on anything, thinning and stretching until there was nothing left of it connected to the kid.

Catherine ran forward and grabbed Peter as he fell. They tripped backwards until she ended up falling on the floor, Peter propped up against her. That was the second time that she had caught him that day.

He was limp and she grasped desperately against his neck for a pulse. It fluttered against her fingers. She felt his lungs expand and contract against her chest. Already he was coming to as he started to move weakly. He was alive.

May leaned down in front of them. "Peter?"

"May?" He responded weakly and then looked up. "Ms. Catherine?"

Catherine didn't stand a chance as May pulled the boy away from her. As confused and sluggish as he seemed, he did have the sense to put his arms around her. Catherine snuck a look at Tony. He was outside his suit, leaning against it with one hand. Venom was nowhere to be seen. One of the arms of Iron Man twitched.

"May…get off me…" Peter said weakly, "I'm alright."

The Iron Man suit gave a jerk and blasted off through one of the entrances. Tony looked exhausted as he gave her a thumbs up.

"No, you were literally a black goo monster a few seconds ago. You are clearly not alright."

"May…"

He fought her for a second longer before giving up. May kept her eyes closed but by how closely she held the kid, she knew how close they had come to something terrible. Peter finally pushed back and May let him go.

Catherine hung back. It could wait a moment.

"Peter, are you okay?" She asked when the silence dragged on a moment too long. For such a causal question, her tone serious.

Peter adjusted his seat on the floor, bringing up a knee between them. He pushed back his hair and stared at the floor. Then he blinked, squinted and looked up at her. "Did you mean that? Are you really proud of me?"

May's face broke into a smile and she pinched his nose. "Of course I am, you silly goose."

He swayed with the touch but the goofy smile came over his face too."Then I'm okay too."

"But don't push your luck. I still might take away your suit, quit my job and homeschool you." Her voice wobbled and then she shook her head, pulled back and laughed at him. "Even if we moved to the countryside. You won't ever stop. You'll save the cows from being tipped."

Peter laughed with her. The sounds were strange and echoed around in the destroyed lobby. How could these two people be giggling like school children?

Catherine shot a look at Tony and he mouthed: "They're crazy."

She nodded.

In the middle of all this chaos, these two sat on the floor and laughed at each other until the police arrived.

* * *

_Only two chapters after this. One is a lot of conclusions and the last (and favorite Catherine/Peter chapter ever) serves as an almost epilogue. I can't believe how close to the end we are. How did that happen? I wish I could talk about the ff I'm writing now but I'm not quite...there yet. _

_Posting chapters near the end like this always make me really nervous. Finally, I've laid all my cards (per se) on the table. What do you think? Did I do Venom justice?_

_Thank you for reading as always. Thank you for coming this far with me. -Quin_


	17. In Which There is Me Time

**In Which There is "Me Time"**

Tony had some guts, Catherine decided as she dragged herself into a Stark Industries elevator at 9 am on a Saturday.

First of all, it was 9 am on a Saturday.

Secondly, it had been four days since Peter had "recovered" from Venom.

After the two Parkers had regained some sense, she had finally gotten a chance to properly treat Peter. The wounds were healing rapidly. The edges were pink and healthy. Venom was gone.

Catherine had tried to go back to her apartment after that, only to remember it didn't exist anymore. Pepper had the civility to get someone in to pack up the remaining items while she was playing "undercover agent". They wouldn't even let her into the building. It was structurally unsound.

She had slept in a hotel room for over 48 hours in new pjs without waking often, only getting up for the necessities. Food was brought to her door. She changed the dressing on her own wounds in the hum of the bathroom lights. The "do not disturb" sign never left the doorknob.

The quiet was beautiful. The only interruption was her phone which she sent it right to voicemail. The only reason it was on was because Peter might call.

He didn't call.

She was fine with that.

Venom had been transported to a tube from the Iron Man suit. Tony hadn't decided if he was going to bury it or burn it or blast it into space.

Any option was great.

For her, the thing needed to be gone.

She checked her phone as the elevator ticked away. The worst part of this was that movers were moving the remains of her apartment into a new place in less than three hours. This man was surely asking for a punch in the face.

The levels continued upwards as she waited to go into Stark's office. According to Pepper, the pressure had finally gotten to him and he was raging drunk in his office. She wanted her here to make sure he didn't choke on his own tongue when he passed out.

After Catherine had said to call in another nurse, Pepper told her that Tony was drunkly recounting the last couple days in full detail to anyone who would listen.

Her days in the hotel ended when Catherine could stand the outside world again. She had finally made it into the office to find twenty three cases of food poisoning, two broken fingers, a man with terrible allergies who wasn't taking his medicine, a scheduled meeting with the cook to talk about proper food sanitation and strong temptation to quit again.

Everything was sore. Her back ached still from holding onto the stress for so long. It felt worse than her nightmare shifts in an E.R. Those only lasted ten to twelve hours. From Peter falling into her apartment bleeding on the floor to the defeat of Venom, it had only been two days. It had felt like a week.

The hallway was quiet as she walked to Tony's office. She needed to see how bad it was so she could get the appropriate medicine. All the desk chairs looked her, empty and neatly pushed in for the weekend. The weekend, she wished, that she could enjoy. Instead she had to deal with a drunk boss and an apartment full of boxes that she didn't even get to pack.

Rock came pounding in from the office. The glass walls were black. It had been a while since he had done this.

She took one deep breath, trying to remember that was goodness somewhere in Tony, and opened the door.

The sight was not what she expected.

Older employees used to say there were strippers. Pepper had nixed that. Her experience had been large pieces of machinery careening around on half written protocols. Catherine would have preferred the women. Neither of those options were in the room.

Instead Tony sat at his desk leaning over a board game, cards in one hand and a drink in the other. Peter was in one of the guest chairs, pulled to the side. Cards were spread before him. It was clear that he was trying to teach Tony the game and it was not going well.

"Kid, you've got all the sheep," Tony was saying, "I need sheep. How did you get all the small hairy animals?"

"It's called a monopoly sir." Peter crossed his legs in his chair. A bottle of lemonade sweated on the table next to him.

Stark's voice neared on annoyed. "You don't need to educate me on monopolies. I used to own one. A real one. Not one built on small annoying animal cards that you need to build a city-"

"A settlement."

"A settlement. Do they slaughter the sheep or something?"

She stared at them openly. It was her first day that didn't require Stark and he had to call her in for absolutely no reason. When she thought that Tony had tested all the ways that he could make her mad, he found a new one.

"You are clearly not 'raging drunk', why the hell am I here?" Catherine snapped.

They turned in their chairs. The music had covered her entrance. Peter tried to hide the mischief on his face by taking a drink.

"Do you know anything about this game, Kathy?" Tony pointed at it. "I'm calling implausibility and foul play all over the place."

"Since you are clearly not raging drunk, I'm going back to figuring out the shambles of my life. Alright?"

"No," he turned, "Your plane is waiting on you. You're going on a little adventure."

Catherine put on her nurse smile. "My life has been threatened on multiple occasions, I'm homeless, managed to extract an alien and in the process didn't sleep for two days. Now I'm moving into a new place in a few hours. I want nothing to do with another adventure."

"I'm really sorry, Ms. Catherine. About the alien part." Peter pressed his cards against the table.

"And I told you, Peter, that it wasn't your fault. You were taken over by an…entity." She felt herself frown at her own words. The science didn't bend this way.

Tony got up.

"No, you sit back down." Catherine snapped at him. She didn't want him close to her. The man had an annoying way of being more convincing by proximity.

Tony paused, looked at Peter, who shrugged and then slowly lowered himself back down into his chair. A real smiled came over her face.

It was the little things in life.

"Now go back to your game and forget about all of this."

He waved a hand. "There's a nice little place in Cape Hatteras, on the beach, two bedrooms, lots of wine, and just one private drive away from a full team at the local spa who are ready for your arrival."

"What?" Those words didn't make any sense to her.

This clearly ruined Tony's plans. He waved his hand more frantically. "A spa day. A 'me' day. A pamper you day."

"No." Catherine put her hand on the doorknob.

Tony half rose but another look from her forced himself back down.

"Peter wanted to do something nice for you and that's what I do for Pepper. It was a good idea. Right kid?"

He shrugged, "You've been really stressed lately so-"

Tony jabbed him. "Pipsqueak. Don't say that."

"What?"

"Women don't like to hear that they've been 'really stressed'."

"Oh." The realization on his face was so innocent.

"This is going terribly. You realize that right?" She clutched onto the knob, trying to leave but couldn't. Her voice was higher than she intended it to be.

While Tony stayed put, Peter didn't seem to notice that the rule might apply to him. He sprung up and walked over to her. A small part of her still flinched away. The kid wasn't dangerous but her chest still stung from the attack. Her grip tightened on the knob.

"Ms. Catherine, we wanted to do something nice for you-"

"I completely disown responsibility for this-" Tony said and Peter glanced back at him before a wry grin came over his face.

"We want to give you a day off, like you did for me."

"That's…sweet but going somewhere where strangers are employed to force me to relax sounds like hell. Even worse, I'm moving today."

"That was the idea. We'd get you away and the movers would handle everything."

She held her breath for a moment and the let it out slowly. "I appreciate the idea but no, no more adventures for a little bit."

Even the idea of trying to sit still tried her patience further than she cared to admit.

Peter nodded. "Okay…what can we do then?"

Catherine felt her head turn as she stared at the two of them. "You want to help me with something?"

"It'll be better than this game." Tony pushed the board away from him. "It is a terrible way to pass the time. False advertisements."

Peter shrugged. "Yeah. If that's what you want."

The idea was crazy but she latched onto it.

"Well. Let's go then."

Peter had no problems. In fact, he seemed to embrace the challenge.

Tony, on the other hand, complained constantly. Because she was the one inflicting it on him, Catherine loved every second of it.

Her response was simple. Since Iron Man had broken and misplaced everything in her last apartment, it was perfect justice that Tony and Peter should help her move into the new place.

Pepper had pulled a few strings a couple of days ago and helped her find a new place. She should have donated her "me" day to her.

Not that there were that many boxes to unpack.

After Catherine put her decorative pot back on her new stove, she leaned against the counter to watch Tony. He was puzzling over her one remaining fancy pillow. He couldn't figure out which way was up. He rotated it left, put it on the couch, picked it up and spun to the right. He repeated this process several times. He still wasn't happy when he noticed her.

He turned towards her. "Don't look so smug."

"I am very smug."

"Stop it." He punched the pillow.

She just leaned further against the counter and raised her eyebrows. Ah yes, masculinity in its finest hour.

Peter walked in, balancing four large boxes on one hand and her mini Christmas tree under the other. "Where do these go Ms Catherine?"

She pointed to a door. "The guest room closet."

Tony was still making a face at her as the kid passed by completely unaware.

She was indeed smug.

Each room only had a few boxes. There wasn't too much left of her life. Thankfully, she wasn't sentimental. Things could be bought again. The only real problem was that Iron Man burned through her art final. Even that, she could have done better so it wasn't much of a lost.

What she couldn't replace were the two boys in her new living room.

She slapped the counter and pushed off, what the hell, when was she turning into a cheesy sop? Disgusting. God, she couldn't stand herself sometimes.

"Hey Tony," she said with a smile, "I saw four more boxes that need to go in my bedroom. Get on it."

* * *

_From a strictly writer's perspective, this chapter has no business existing. It serves no purpose but I love so many little things about it: Catherine keeping her phone on for Peter, Peter teaching Tony Settlers of Catan, Tony punching the pillow and Catherine restoring that pot (yes, that is the pot she knocked out Venom with). _

_Next week is the last chapter for In Pieces and the true epilogue. I can't believe that this is almost over. What a ride._

_I am excited to tell you what my next project is. It's a good one. :)_

_What do you think? Are you happy I included this chapter?_

_Thank you for reading as always._

_Quin_


	18. In Which We Are Engaged

**In Which We Are Engaged**

Catherine yanked at the fabric of her dress as it caught in the plastic of her seat.

She forgot how much she hated dresses. Thankfully the seat released her hem but it bounced back too far and fluttered up revealing absolutely too much thigh for a moment.

This was not worth it.

There was no way that the pomp and circumstance of Tony's and Pepper's engagement party was going to be good for her. The venue was one of the fanciest in town and already people were milling around with cameras. Red and gold lights rolled and flashed into the sky.

This guy didn't know where to stop.

She pushed her way through the crowd, all of them ignoring her, and into the more quiet hustle of the party.

There was more marble here than she had ever seen when visiting the greek gallery in the Met. Oh wait, no, that wasn't possible. She was in the greek gallery at the Met.

It was just another level for the super rich and famous.

About a hundred people milled around in clumps and holding champagne over statues of naked women. She took a couple steps scanning for a face that she knew.

She knew lots of faces actually but all of them from magazine covers and newspaper articles.

Great. Just great.

A piece of hair fell in her face. She pushed it aside. Even the blowout she had gotten wasn't giving her the confidence advertised.

Out of the corner of her eye, she saw a very short man with a woman awkwardly standing next to him. Catherine knew them, even with their backs turned. The tip off was the shirley temple in his hand. Also, she had checked the news on her phone on the way over.

No sightings of Spider-Man for the last two hours.

Thank goodness for obsessed Twitters that reported every sighting no matter the time or day.

She straightened, grasped a champagne glass from a waiter and walked over. She smiled. It was time to meet this crush of his. Things stopped making sense as she got closer. She was taller than him and while Peter hadn't spent too much time describing her, the description didn't include "straight brown hair".

"Well, is this your high school friend?" She asked when she got within reasonable earshot. She was sure the tinny room was torture for Spider-Man.

"Ms. Catherine!" Peter turned, relief on his face. "I'm so happy to see you. I was worried you weren't going to make it or something. Is everything okay out there? I haven't been checking my phone. Maybe I should poke my head out?"

"The city is fine. It will continue to exist for the next two hours without you." Her attention turned to his "date".She couldn't help it as a real smile came across her face. She already knew her.

May didn't give her a chance to say hello. The hug was huge and encompassing.

"It's so nice to see you under better circumstances." She squeezed and Catherine popped her eyes open to see Peter looking somewhere between embarrassed and happy.

"You too." Catherine managed to pull away and she looked at him, "No MJ?"

"I didn't ask her." He stared at his shoes. "I…I asked May instead."

"And I said 'yes'!" She threw an arm around Peter. The delight of being there was clear. "This place is so fancy, isn't it?"

"I think this was a perfect choice."

After everything, both Peter and May had come to her separately to say that they had talked honestly. Peter had simply said, Things are good now. Cool aunt restored.

Aunt May, on the other hand, had given a little more information than that.

If I can't stop him, the text had read, then maybe I need to just get over it and help him keep straight. No more insecurity monsters.

Peter smiled weakly between the two of them. His fingers were wrapped around his left bicep. He was slowly massaging it.

"Is that bothering you?" Catherine asked quickly.

He paled. "No. Not at all ma'am. It's been perfect."

His hands went neatly behind him and he straightened. His eyes went around the gallery but there was nothing to latch onto. He was the perfect picture of a child caught lying

"Mrs. Parker, would you mind if I steal your date?"

She plucked his drink away and took a sip. "I think I saw a statue of Emperor Augustus that I wanted to look at a little closer. Go on Peter."

"Aunt May-"

Catherine snaked her hand under his good arm and deftly spun him away. "No arguments."

There were a couple sounds of compliant but he quickly quieted. She guided him away from the crowds.

It took them a bit to find a part of the museum that wasn't being used. It ended up being in a gallery that smelled deeply like the sea and had wooden boat in the middle. The silence in the room was beautiful. Even Peter's shoulders fell a little as they headed to a bench.

"Okay. Let's take a look at those stitches."

While he sat, he leaned forward and whispered, "I don't want to take off my shirt in the Met."

"Please." Catherine busied herself with her purse. "I expect that they've seen much worse. Off it goes."

Carefully he took off the jacket and laid it aside. She saw the tag inside. It was a rental. He brushed off the front and then started in on the shirt.

"It's nice. Fits you well."

"Thanks. I've been saving for it." He flashed a smile and then winced as he pulled that left arm out of the sleeve. "You really don't have-"

"Nonsense." She unzipped her purse and pulled the out the two contents, her phone and a very small first aid kit. She opened a ziplock bag with surgery gloves in it.

"You just have that on you?" Stiffly, he put the shirt aside leaving his undershirt on.

She couldn't help the smirk. "And we aren't going to talk about that?"

He had a dark band on one of wrists. She didn't have to look close to see Stark tech written all over it.

He shrugged, conceding.

"Come on. Let me see it." She leaned in to study the stitches that she had put in his arm the day before. Spider-Man had been making an extra tight turn and, supposedly, ran directly into a drone. Six inch laceration on the left bicep. It was messy and had taken about fifty stitches to make sure Spidey could swing the next day.

As she inspected the puckered skin, he sighed. "I'm still really sorry Ms. Catherine."

She glared at him. "Stop it."

"I feel so bad. I caused so much trouble the last few weeks."

The skin under her fingers shivered. Probably it was from the air conditioning.

"Your arm hurts because the stitches need to come out. You've healed it in record time. We'll do that now. It won't take long," she muttered and pulled the scissors from the kit. "Honestly Peter, we all knew what we signed up for. It's not all fun and games."

She started in on the stitches, trying to find the rhythm.

"Ow."

She gave him another look as she continued to cut away the stitching. It was good to see it healing so quickly. It meant that everything was back to normal.

"You and May okay?"

His voice colored with emotion. "She's actually proud of me, she really is, I've just had to promise her that I won't do anything that will get me killed."

"Sounds reasonable." She left the surgical string in a neat little pile on the seat next to them. It should technically go in a biohazard bag but a trash can would do.

"I…I almost killed you."

She stopped. The teen was truly worried. She could see it wrapped around him, choking him. His eyes were big in the half light. The tweezer and scissors rested gently against his arm.

"Peter, we went over this. You didn't. Venom got a little close but that's over now. You've got to move on. I have."

He swallowed. "I know but I've seen your scars and I'm really-ow!"

Catherine removed her heel from the top on his shoe. "I'll do worse if you don't quit beating yourself up. Leave that for someone else to try to do. Use your energy for more productive things."

He rubbed his foot with his free hand and then nodded.

"Hold still. Just a few more to go." She pulled on the last couple threads. The skin was already loosing the redness from where she had been. Only tiny beads of blood welled up from her actions. The boy was incredible.

"Ms. Catherine-"

"Shhh." Only a few stitches remained.

"You know-"

"I'm concentrating." She needed to work quickly. It was only a matter of time before a guard came in here. This would be an awkward situation to explain.

"I was thinking-"

"Peter." Her fingers worked quickly. The last knot came free and she dropped it happily off with the others.

"I haven't said-"

The sting of alcohol cut him off. She wiped a cleaning pad over the spots. That would be good enough for now. He pulled away his arm. She couldn't finish her work. She looked up at him, annoyed. She needed to wipe it one more time.

"Thank you Ms. Catherine for…for…everything, you know? You were there for me." That slammed her with a force of a truck. Her emotion spun. He put his free hand on hers.

Shit, he meant it.

She knew she was blushing. Emotion crept up her throat. Something got in her eye. No, she was better than this. Professional. She was a professional. The kit snapped shut.

"Just doing my job," She said shortly. "Get your shirt back on."

Peter smiled but there was more knowledge behind it than she cared to admit. "I hear that they are sending people in to the dining room for the big entrance."

Of course he could hear that.

"Well knucklehead, we better get going. We can't miss that. Tony would fire us both."

She helped him with the shirt and the jacket. It wasn't the best fitting piece of fabric. She yanked it in a couple places and pressed out a few seams. It made him look older. Or, perhaps, he was getting older now.

She turned back towards the door and he jogged to catch up with her.

"Ms. Catherine?" He offered his arm.

For all her stubbornness, she didn't say no. Instead, she made a point to sigh before accepting it. Peter stood a little taller in the suit and together they left the room arm in arm.

* * *

_Written: September 10th 2019 - October 28th 2019_

_Published: November 2nd 2019 - February 29th 2020_

* * *

_We made it to the end again. _

_What can I say that I haven't said before? Thank you so much for reading this story and sticking with me the entire way. I'm aware of how risky it can be to put an original character in an established world and I appreciate that you take the risk on me week after week. Catherine is a pleasure to write and she forces _me_ to learn and expand along with Peter and Tony._

_So just simply...thank you._

_Am I done writing fanfiction? Not quite yet. I have started a new story and it goes a little like this..._

24 Hours in Peter Parker's Life

Peter's to-do list is longer than he can remember. He's got a test to study for, sleep to catch up on, an aunt to keep calm and unexplained feelings that appear around MJ. Thankfully it's Saturday. He can play catch up. Unfortunately this is the story of how Peter almost studies, angers a librarian, goes on a maybe date, breaks into multiple museums and accidentally takes a ballet class.

Alternatively: Peter wants a normal day but Spider-Man and NYC have other plans.

_In Pieces was so emotionally heavy that I craved to write something just plan fun. The first chapter has been posted if you want to stick around. Sadly, I did not include Catherine in this one. I don't think I'm done with her...yet. But for now, I'm happy to leave her here._

_Thank you for enjoying this adventure with me. _In Pieces _has been such a romp and I'm happy to share it with you. Let me know what you think! Did you enjoy it? What was your favorite part? Would you want to see more Catherine in the future?_

_Thank you as always for reading. -Quin_


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